


It's Easy (All You Need Is Love)

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Across The Universe AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1960s, Alternate Universe - Historical, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Harry, Exploration, F/M, First Time, Flower Child Harry, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Gay Rights Movements, Harry is no stranger to spending the night in jail, Hippies, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Jealousy, M/M, Oral Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Police Brutality, Protests, Recreational Drug Use, References to the Beatles, Stonewall Inn Riots, Top Louis, Trans Character, anti-war protests, arrests are made, it's loosely based off ATU, peaceful protests
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-03-18 20:14:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3582456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A love story between Harry and Louis intertwined with the anti-war movement and social protests of the late 1960's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first fic ever so please, be nice! Any and all mistakes are mine.
> 
> Here's the first chapter, it's slow and short but it's all part of the build up! Enjoy X

Thirty minutes. Thirty more minutes of listening to Mr. Haupt talk about the first World War, and then Harry will be free of school for the long, extended weekend. It’s not that he doesn’t like school, he loves learning and reading, although his music class is his favorite. It’s just hard to enjoy and find interest in something when the person teaching you doesn't have any passion for the subject and drones on in a monotonous manner for the ninety minute class. Also, the people are assholes, and he has to pretend to find it funny when his “friends” pick on other classmates and call them “faggots”, and pretends that it doesn’t hurt or effect him at all. He’s glad this is his last year of high school. He has high hopes for college.  


The final bell sounds and the students are jumping out of their desks, gathering their belongings and running out into the crowded halls. It’s spring break, and Harry plans on doing nothing but stuffing himself past full, laying out by the pool, and sleeping until mid-day everyday.  


“Hey Harry, you comin to Max’s tomorrow? His folks are out of town for the night, we’re looking to get proper blitzed. I heard Colin’s got some grass,” Dean asks Harry, putting out his cigarette with the heel of his brown oxford shoe. Dean liked to pretend he was a badass and didn’t care about breaking the rules, smoking on school grounds, when in reality Dean nearly wet his pants when a kid from the other side of town walked up to him asking to bum a smoke.  


“I can’t, Gemma’s supposed to be coming home from college for break tonight.”  


“Really, later tonight?” Dean asks, he and Jamie both smirking at Harry.  


“Yeah, why?” Harry asks warily, he didn’t really like or trust Dean. He only put up with him and his judgmental attitude simply for the fact that his father and Harry’s step-father worked together. Out of nowhere a car horn sounds, making Harry jump.  


“Harry!” Harry whips his head around at the sound of his sisters voice.  


“Gemma, I thought you weren’t coming back until tonight?” He asks her, running around to the driver’s side of the car to hug her, forgetting Dean and Jamie on back the school steps.  


“I wanted to surprise you,” Gemma says easily. She’s just as beautiful as he remembered, her hair is longer, and straighter, and her eyes just as bright and green as before.  


“Well, it worked…” he trails off, his eyes meeting those of a stranger, sitting in the passenger seat smiling fondly at Harry and Gemma.  


“Oh! This is Louis, he’s from England!” Gemma says, smiling brightly, hugging the boy’s shoulders and bringing him in closer to her.  


“Nice to meet you,” Harry says and holds out his hands, because his mother raised him right and he wanted to make a good impression on this boy.  


“Yeah, you too,” He says and smiles coyly and Harry’s knees go weak. His eyes so blue and full of mischief, his smile bright and daring. Harry was a goner already.  


“C’mon, hop in!” Gemma exclaims and Harry throws his school bag into the back of the car and climbs in. Gemma drives off, telling Harry all about life in college, and how the parties are crazy.  


“Sounds fun, Gems. So, you’re from England?” Harry says, finally able to change the subject and learn a bit about the boy in the front seat.  


“Yeah, little town called Doncaster.” He says proudly.  


“How’d you end up over here?”  


“Well, you see, I came over here to look for my father, he’s from here. Came to England because of the war, met me mum, fell in love and then he left, was sent off for battle or some shit. Two years later, mum gets a letter in the post with a return address from some college in America. Turns out it was from him. He explained that he got injured in battle and was sent back to the States and thought about her everyday. He tried looking for her and he finally found her address, obviously. She never told him about me, he left before she even found out she was pregnant. I kept the envelope and told me mum I was coming over here for better work. I lied, jumped ship to come here and meet him, put a face to a name. I was just curious, y’know?” Louis explains with a shrug as if it were nothing.  


“That’s a lovely story. So, did you end up finding him?” Harry says dreamily with wide eyes. Gemma and Louis both laugh at him.  


“Yeah, should’ve seen his face when I told ‘im.” Louis chuckles. “Took a bit of time to convince him, even after showing him the crumpled envelope.”  


“Wow, that’s incredible,”  


“Not really, was a bit of a prick, if I’m honest. He made it obvious he wanted nothing to do with me, saying he had a proper family now and was short on money. As if I’d come here to beg my absent father for money, bastard.” Louis spits, shaking his head.  


“How’d you end up meeting Gemma, then?”  


“Oh, this one, she’s a wild one, found her drunk off her arse, stumbling alone in the middle of the night!” Louis says, laughing loudly.  


“Gemma, that’s not safe!” Harry chastises his older sister, smacking her shoulder lightly.  


“Calm down, H, I wasn’t that drunk, he’s exaggerating.” She says with a small grin, ruffling Louis’ already messy hair.  


“Anyways, figured I’d help her back to her room before someone else a lot less nicer than me came along. She’s quite the talker, isn’t she?”  


“Yeah, I believe it.” Harry says with a weak chuckle. He sits back and absently listens to Louis and Gemma’s banter, glad that his sister is back and seemingly happy. They pull into the driveway, and Harry helps Gemma and Louis with their bags.  


“Have you told mom and dad about Louis?” Harry asks as they ascend the steps to the front door.  


“Nope.” She says simply and walks in.

***

Dinner is a quiet and awkward affair, nothing but the sound of silverware clinking against the china. Anne and Robin were surprised to find that Gemma had brought someone to their home, even more so with he fact that he was technically an immigrant. Anne found him charming and even blushed when Louis called her “love”. Louis didn’t seem fazed with the way Robin’s nose turned high up with his presence or his rude remarks when he wasn’t satisfied with Louis’ answers to his questions. He was polite when needed, thanking them for the food and spare room, and apologizing for showing up ‘uninvited’. Anne assured him it was no problem, shushing Robin when he scoffed. Louis won her over when he told her about what brought him here, of course this version was a bit more romanticized and Louis left out the part that his father ended up being a total prick.  


Conversation begins to pick up, Gemma and Harry bickering back and forth just like how they used to when they were younger. Harry notices Gemma’s squirming and inability to meet anyone’s eyes when the topic of college comes up. He watches her closely and then the bomb drops.  


“You’re so lucky to be able to have the opportunity to attend college, darling-” Anne says and Gemma drops her fork on her plate loudly, all eyes shooting towards her.  


“I dropped out.” She says and everyone freezes, Anne gasping and Robin choking on his whiskey.  


“I’m sorry, what was that?” Robin asks. Louis awkwardly clears his throat, eyes staying down on his plate.  


“I’ve already met with the dean and I’m dropping-I dropped out.”  


“Gemma, darling, you can’t be serious,” Anne says, brows furrowed deeply, eyes watering.  


“But I am. It wasn’t for me…I wasn’t happy and I wasn’t passing I just…I’m sorry mom-”  


“You ungrateful, little bitch!” Robin spits out, standing up from his seat at the head of the table.  


“Robin!” Anne cries, looking at her husband in horror.  


“Your mother and I worked very hard to get you to where you are now and you just go and throw it all away because you aren’t happy? Who do you think you are?” Robin yells. Harry watches his face grow redder by the second.  


“Robin, please,” Anne says softly, staring hard at the table cloth, bottom lip trembling. Robin storms off, Anne’s face falling into her hands and Gemma sitting with her arms crossed, glaring at Robin’s empty seat. Harry glances over to Louis and finds the boy already staring at him.  


“If you’ll excuse me,” Louis says and stands up from the table, turning and leaving to go outside. Harry follows him.  


“Sorry you had to see that,” Harry says sheepishly. Louis exhales, blue-gray smoke twisting in the wind.  


“No worries, mate,” Louis says and takes another drag.  


“Did you know?”  
  

“Yeah, she told me a lot of things while she was drunk.” Louis says and Harry snorts, his sister was never good at holding secrets when they used to sneak their parents whiskey. Harry was the third person to find out Amber Wiley was pregnant, and he felt powerful with that knowledge.  


“I believe it.” Harry says, kicking at the stones nervously.  


“You want?” Louis asks, holding out the cigarette towards Harry. Before Harry can answer, Gemma is storming out of the house.  


“Unbelievable!” She shouts, taking the fag from Louis fingers and taking a long drag and exhaling forcefully. “Can you believe he said that to me?”  


“Well, actually-”  


“Don’t answer that. It was a rhetorical question, honestly, H.” Gemma says and shakes her head. Harry blushes when Louis chuckles.  


“What are you going to do?” Harry asks after a long silence between the three of them.  


“We’re going to New York City, of course,” She says as if it were a known fact.  


“You’re joking, right?”  


“No, why would I be? It’s the city of dreams!”  


“I don’t think that’s actually-”  


“That’s not the point. The point is that it’s a new start, there’s so many accepting people there, H.” She says, and Harry feels like she knows something that she isn’t telling Harry and he doesn’t like it.  


“Accepting of what?”  


“Everything, well, mostly. It’s the city of change, opportunity and we’re going,” She says, bringing Louis into a one-armed embrace.  


“You’re nuts,” Harry says to the two of them. They laugh at him and light up another fag. The three of them stay out in the warm spring air, calming down and looking at the sun as it sets in the west.  


“Gems?”  


“Yeah, H?”  


“What’re you going to do in New York? Where will you stay?”  


“I dunno, H. I’ll just go with the flow,” she sighs, closing her eyes and running her fingers through Harrys curls.  


“You’re hairs shorter than I remember,” She comments.  


“Mom made me cut it.” He mumbles. She chuckles and continues to scratch his scalp. They all lay there in silence for a while longer before Anne calls out to them from the kitchen window, asking them to come inside.They reluctantly get up and head back into the house. Anne is drying the last of the dishes; Robin is nowhere in sight.  


“Harry, would you show Louis to the guest room? I’d like to have a word with your sister,” She says as she puts away the last dish. Harry nods and walks towards the stairs, not looking back to see if Louis actually followed him. He stops at the end of the hall, pointing towards the room to the left of the balcony doors.  


“You’ll be sleeping in this room while you stay here,” Harry says, opening the door and stepping out of the way so Louis can enter.  


“Er, thanks,” Louis says and sets down his back on the bed.  


“How long will it be?”  


“Will what be?” Louis asks quietly.  


“How long are you staying?”  


“Oh. Um, tomorrow. We’re uh, leaving tomorrow.” Louis answers and Harry's jaw drops, brow furrowing.  


“What?!” Harry nearly shouts. Gemma just got back, surely she wouldn’t be leaving so soon, especially to New York City; he would probably never see her again.  


“Yeah, all part of Gemma’s plan. She’s a brave girl, no fear.” Louis says and Harry's frown deepens. Gemma wasn't even planning on staying for more than one day before leaving. Harry didn't want her to leave. It was hard enough when she left for college but at least he knew he would see her when she came back on breaks. But running away to New York City, that sounds like something you don't come back from, sounds like a place you go to forget and start over. Harry doesn't want Gemma to just forget about him.  


“Hey, she’s not going to disappear forever, y’know? You could still, like write and she’ll probably call you somehow. She loves you a lot, I can tell.”  


“What’re you two rappin about?” Gemma asks, appearing out of nowhere and making Harry jump.  


“You leaving me behind forever tomorrow,” Harry says coolly. Her eyes go wide and a sad frown appears, she reaches out to comfort her little brother but he jerks away from her and storms off to his room.  


Harry can hear Louis and Gemma’s voices, but can’t make out all the words. He lays on his bed, staring up at the model planes hung above his bed that have been there since as long as he can remember. He thinks about his sister leaving and how he wishes he could go with her, just drop everything and leave without second thought. The way she talked about New York made him want to go there, where he wouldn’t have to be completely ashamed of himself, where he could make money singing, doing what he loves, instead of having to go through more years of school to become a lawyer like his mother and Robin want him to. He thinks about Louis, and his pretty pink lips and his airy laugh and sharp teeth, and he thinks about how wrong it is for him to be thinking about a boy. It’s wrong, disgusting. If anyone heard his thoughts, he’d be dead for sure. He’d have no friends, his own parents would probably kick him out on the streets. He's tried time and time again to ignore the thoughts, shove them in the deepest darkest parts of his mind, he tried to kiss girls and not think about how their lips and hands were too soft and dainty. His mind is racing, all over the place and he can’t fall asleep. He quietly sneaks out of his room and goes out onto the balcony to look at the stars. He’s alone for only a few minutes before the balcony door creaks open, he starts and turns around and see’s Louis.  


“Couldn’t sleep?” Louis asks him, sitting next to him on the cold bench. Harry shakes his head and sighs. They sit in a comfortable silence, both looking up at the night sky.  


“What’re you thinking about?” Louis asks, his voice quiet and soft.  


“Nothing. Everything.” Harry answers. Louis laughs lightly next to him, Harry can feel his body shake. Harry doesn’t laugh with him.  


“She mentioned wanting you to come along, with us, to New York.” Louis offers, hoping it’ll wipe the deep frown from Harry’s face. He doesn’t like to not see the younger boy smile. He thinks Harry should always smile, always be happy and he’s only met the kid a few hours ago.  


“I couldn’t, I’m still in high school.” Harry sighs, not even letting himself get his hopes up.  


“After. After you’ve finished school,” Louis says, looking up at Harry with bright eyes.  


“I don’t know,” Harry says uneasily. He wants to, he really does, but he doesn’t think he’d survive. Harry is…delicate. He’s been living in the shell of someone his mother and step-father want him to be, he doesn’t know how to not be this happy, smart and heterosexual young man with a bright future. He doesn’t know how to be himself. He isn’t even sure who he really is.  


“I couldn’t,” Harry finally says.  


“You won’t know until you try. I think you could, I think-I know you could do it. I’ve seen it, the little light you get in your eyes when you were talking about singing and music to your mother. You’ve got a strong passion for it, and that’s rare. New York is a great place to pursue those kind of dreams. Live a little, love.” Louis says and Harry’s heart skips a beat at the nickname. Louis eyes are shining, something glimmering in them that makes Harry’s mouth run dry, palms go clammy.  


“Okay,” Harry says breathlessly, heart racing at how close their faces were. He isn't sure what he's agreeing to but he doesn't really care as long as Louis keeps looking at him like that. Louis smiles at him and winks, darting down to quickly kiss his cheek and squeezes his knee before he gets up and goes back inside to his room. Harry brings his hand up to his cheek, still burning from the touch of Louis’ lips to his skin. He laughs up at the stars twinkling in the night sky, a cool spring breeze blowing through his hair and knows he is well and truly fucked. Harry has a strong feeling that this boy is going to break his heart one day.


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another slow filler chapter, sorry just setting up the story line! The fun begins in the next chapter. Any and all mistakes are mine. Hope you enjoy! X

Anne cries when Gemma tells her she’s leaving. Harry does, too, alone in his room after his sister and Louis left late after dinner. Robin shut himself in his office all day, was silent throughout dinner, didn’t make eye contact with anyone. Harry figures he should have seen a sort of rebellion coming from his older sister. She was always brave, she was the one with the scraped knees and dirty clothes when they were younger. Harry preferred to sit in the fields with the flowers and sing nursery rhymes because those were the only songs he had known back then. Not much changed as they grew up; Gemma was sneaking out to see boys, stealing their parents liquor, while Harry sat back and completed all of his coursework and helped out their elderly neighbor with her gardening. Sometimes, when Gemma was in high spirits and feeling generous, she’d invite Harry along, offer him the sour whiskey and laugh with him at stupid things because Harry was a lightweight and was giggly and clingy when he was drunk.

When Harry wakes up the next afternoon, his heart is heavy and there is a slight throbbing in the back of his head. He closes his eyes against the bright sunlight shining through his window facing the backyard. He can hear his mother out in the garden, humming to herself as she pulls up the weeds. He drags himself out of bed and into the shower.

Harry joins his mother in their backyard, after greeting Robin in his office. She’s wearing her old and withering sunhat, once white gloves now nearly black with years worth of dirt on them. He smiles brightly at her and accepts the pair of gloves she hands him.

“Morning darling, you slept in late,” She comments after a few minutes of silent weeding. Harry hums in response. “Rough night?” She winks and laughs softly, shaking her head.

Anne was a more…forgiving parent. She was well aware of her children sneaking alcohol and didn’t mind as long as they were in her house and being safe. She was upset when Gemma told her about leaving, but only because she feared she would never see her daughter again, not because her daughter was acting on impulse and possibly ruining a good future for herself. Still, as open-minded and accepting of certain situations as she was, Harry didn’t think she would be accepting of his situation-his sexuality. He imagines she would insist it’s just a phase, and that it’ll pass. She wouldn’t tell Robin about it, that he knows for sure, for the sake of both of them. Robin would go berserk, drink himself into a sloppy, verbal mess. Harry feared Robin would get physical, and that his mother would try to intervene and end up getting herself hurt. He doesn’t want to risk that. So he keeps it to himself, pushes it back, out of sight out of mind and walks around pretending to be as interested in girls as his pals are, keeps up with the locker room talk and goes on about his sad excuse for a life.

But, now that Louis has come in the picture, Harry isn’t so sure he wants to play it safe anymore. One day, one boy and suddenly, Harry is viewing everything in a completely different perspective. He doesn’t even know if Louis is…is gay, but the boy makes Harry want to be proud of who he is, even if it’s a sin and means he is going to hell. At least he’ll live and die true to himself, and not hiding or being ashamed. As he lay in bed, he pondered over what Louis had told him on the balcony, about going to New York once he finished high school. It didn’t take long for him to make up his mind. He planned on getting a job and working and saving his money to help at least get him to the city, and maybe even a little left over to give to Gemma and Louis for letting him stay with them.

Harry and Anne continue in a comfortable silence, working together effortlessly. They were both dirty and sweaty by the time they finished. Anne ran inside and fetched them fresh lemonade, the glasses sweating as soon as she sets them on the picnic table.

“Alright, what’s bothering you?” Anne asks him after taking a long sip of her drink.

“Hm? Oh, nothing, m’fine,” Harry says, staring into his glass.

“Honey, a mother always knows when something is off, it’s part of the job,” she jokes, “C’mon H, you can talk to me, you know this.” She says to him kindly. Harry chews the inside of his cheek, trying to quickly come up with something.

“It’s just, I’ve heard back from a few colleges, but I’ve not heard back from Princeton and it just worries me, y’know because it’s my dream school and deadlines are soon.” He lies. Princeton was Robin’s dream. Anne clicks her tongue and grabs Harry’s hand, gently squeezing it.

“Darling, you’ll get in don’t worry. You’re a bright boy, top of your class, and you go to a very impressive high school, they’d be silly to not accept you.” She promises and kisses his hair before going inside to clean up and prepare dinner. Harry stays outside alone for a while longer, clears his mind and pets the cat as she leaves her notorious spot in the bushes and jumps up into his lap, rubbing against his chest, begging to be pet and purring loudly.

“Mom’s going to hate me when I leave. She’ll be so disgusted in me, she’ll never want to see or talk to me ever again.” Harry says to the cat and in return, she jumps off from his lap to chase after a bird.

\+ 

Spring break drags on and Harry surprisingly finds himself counting down the days until he goes back to school. He does nothing but sit around the house all day or by the pool. Jamie and Dean come over a few times and they swim and play soccer in the backyard, but Harry doesn’t enjoy their company because they’ve picked up on slinging homophobic language around, and talking about how many girls they slept with over the break.

School picks up where it left off, exams coming up as the year comes to a close. Harry is buzzing, he’s about to graduate high school, a huge milestone, and then he’s going to disappoint his mother and step-father and run away to New York to be with his sister and her foreign friend. Although he would miss his mother terribly, he’s excited and can’t wait.

Harry gets his acceptance letter the same night Gemma rings for the first time. Harry is lucky to be the first to the telephone.

“Twist residence, this is Harry,” He greets robotically into the phone.

“Harry?” Harry nearly cries at the sound of his sister’s voice crackling through the receiver.

“Gemma? Oh my gosh, Gems! H-How are you? What’s it like down there? Have you made any fri-”

“Calm down Harry! One question at a time!” She laughs. Harry laughs with her, joyful tears in his eyes. “Firstly, I’m great! I’ve made lots of friends, Louis’ accent is like a chick magnet!” She laughs and Harry laughs, but mostly at himself for being so naive, thinking-hoping that Louis was gay. And what a terrible thing to wish upon someone, for them to be a sinner and a disgrace just so Harry could love them. How selfish of him. “The people here are all over the place. A lot of people in the main parts of the city are a bunch of assholes, with their pressed suits and high heels. But, get to the right side of town and the people are so welcoming and open and carefree. It’s beautiful, so beautiful Harry. I wish you could see it,” she says, her voice dreamy and distant.

“I was thinking, about you know…coming down there? When I finish school?” Harry tries, his voice weak and shaking, his palms getting sweaty.

“Really? You’re serious?”

“Yes.” He says, and the water works begin. “Gemma…I hate it here, I don’t fit in…everyday is like a challenge you don’t understand. I hate my friends, and, God, if they only knew they’d hate me too. Everyone would hate me, but I can’t do it anymore, Gems. I have this secret, it’s a huge secret and I feel like one day everything is going to just blow up and everyone will find-”

“Harry, I know.” Gemma says softly, and Harry’s breathing stops.

“You-you know what?”

“I know about your…secret. I’ve had an inkling for a while, H. And I want you to know that it’s okay and that no matter what I’m on your side if anything does happen. You’ll always be welcome wherever I am, okay? I love you so much baby brother, I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” She soothes him over the phone, and Harry’s breathing goes back to normal.

“Really? You wouldn’t hate me?” Harry asks, just to be sure.

“I promise. A few of the people I met are gay, bi-sexual. I even saw a guy dressed in drag! Louis said made a prettier girl than me! Can you believe it?” She says to lighten the mood. Harry laughs and it’s wet from his tears but he wipes his face with the sleeve of his shirt and grins widely.

“That’s great. I’m glad you’re having fun.” 

“I’ll have even more fun when I have my little brother by my side, to keep me in check and make sure I don’t do anything too crazy, God knows Louis is a terrible babysitter. He can be very persuasive.” 

“You tell him I said I will personally kill him if he let’s anything happen to you, alright?”

Gemma laughs and says, “I’ll inform him of your threat. How’re mom and Robin?”

“Robin is mostly drunk and indifferent, as usual. Mom’s…she’s alright? I can tell she gets sad sometimes, but she’s, yeah she’s good.” Harry says, and Gemma sighs on the other end of the line. 

“Harry, dear, who is it on the phone?” Anne calls, her voice getting louder as she walks towards the den where Harry is.

“It’s um, it’s Gemma,” He says quietly and watches as his mother’s face lights up.

“Who’re you talking to, H?” Gemma asks.

“Can I…does she want to talk with me?” 

“It’s mom, do you want-“

“Yes! Put her on, I love you Harry and I can’t wait to see you!” 

“Love you, too, Gems,” Harry says before handing the phone off to his mother. He leaves the room, leaving them to talk in privacy. He’s feeling a whirlwind of emotions, happy that he got to talk to Gemma and that she wants him to go to New York, but he’s also scared because it’s out. Someone knows, even though he trusts her with his entire life it’s still a bit surreal to have admitted to it, owned up and he’s glad Gemma was the first one to officially know. He needed her kind words and acceptance. Knowing that he wasn’t alone and that people in New York would accept him, made him feel just that much better. Less than a month and he would be there, with Gemma and Louis and maybe even the man dressed in drag. He simply could not wait. He would put up with Dean and Jamie and the rest of his friends that he didn’t care for, he would put up with Robin and his coworkers discussing their disgust in the faggot protestors they hear about in the news.

]

\+ 

The sun is beating down on Harry’s back, making him sweat through his nice button down shirt, the hideous green gown making the heat ten times worse. The cap did nothing to help keep the sun out of his face, squinting up at the stage as the principal called out the names of the graduating class. By the time it was Harry’s row’s turn to walk up to the side of the stage, Harry felt like he was going to pass out any minute.

“Hey, you alright there, Styles?” Danny Tailor asked Harry, placing a firm hand on Harry’s shoulder to stop him from swaying.

“Yeah, just got a bit…light headed. Thanks,” Harry said, walking up another step as one more student walked across the stage.

”Harry Styles,” The vice principal called from her stand and Harry made his way across the stage, just like they practiced. He stopped and shook the principal’s hand and smiled at the camera with the fake diploma in his free hand. He couldn’t get off of that stage and get home and out of those robes fast enough. He saved up money by gardening for their neighbor, Mrs. Cline, mowing lawns in the neighborhood, doing chores around the house and helping his mother and babysitting. Gemma had called only two more time after the first phone call. They made their plans on the last call, one week ago. Harry packed two bags, taking only what he deemed absolutely necessary and went to say goodbye to his mother. He knew this was going to be hard and he just hoped that she wouldn’t hate him too much, or blame herself because she was a wonderful mother and did nothing wrong. Thankfully, Robin was out having drinks with coworkers.

“Mom?” Harry said quietly. Anne looked up from her book and smiled up at her son.

“Yes, honey?” Harry sniffled and then started bawling, Anne quickly set her book aside and pulled Harry into her lap, despite how big and tall he was.

“Oh, baby what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry mom. I’m so sorry, but I can’t do this.” he cried.

“Can’t do what sweetie?”

“I can’t go to Princeton, I can’t keep…keep pretending to be someone I’m not!”

“What do you mean Harry?”

“Mom…I’m gay. Please don’t hate me.” He whispered, voice cracking. He can’t even look his mother in the eyes, he feels sick. He needs to go, he needs to leave now and never look back.

“Oh,” she coos, her voice thick with tears, “I could never hate you baby. I love you so much, you know that right?” She asks, petting his hair and wiping the tears from his cheeks. Harry nods and hiccups. “I understand, why you’re leaving. I won’t blame you or be angry with you, but I can only speak for myself.” She says and he knows she’s referring to Robin. How he would not be okay with this, with Harry being gay. Harry nods again, too scared to speak. “I love you.” She says and kisses his hair.

“I love you too, mom. I have to leave, now or I’ll miss my train.” Harry said, getting up and grabbing his bags he left outside of the room.

“You’re going to walk to the train station?” Anne asks him. Harry nods sheepishly.

“I…I figured you’d not want to ever see me again, so…” He says, cheeks turning red and eyes watering again.

“Not at all. Come on darling, I’ll drive you.” Anne says and goes to grab the keys to the family car. Anne holds Harry’s hand tight on the short drive to the station and makes him almost miss his train because she holds him tightly and cries and Harry didn’t have the strength to try her hands from his shirt.

“Please, call or at least write me, I hate to worry about knowing if you’re safe or not. Please, promise me that you’ll do that, and you and Gemma watch out for each other.” She says, dabbing under her eyes.

“I promise I will. Goodbye, love you mom.” He says and shuts the car door. Harry hopes Gemma doesn’t forget about meeting him when he arrives in the city shortly. He has her address and a generous amount of cash in his pocket for a cab, just in case. He boards the train with a lighter heart, knowing his mother still loves him despite his sexuality, and with the knowledge that in three hours, he would be in a city where he wouldn’t be alone, a city where he could find love and sell his art and sing for his supper.


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This past week has been absolutely terrible and heartbreaking. Not much else to say about that as I'm sure everyone is reeling through various emotions. 
> 
> Here's the third chapter! Enjoy! X

Harry stepped off the train and onto the platform, eyes wide and wandering around the station. He’d only ever been to New York City once and he was very young, he didn’t remember much from the trip. He suddenly feels so small, so insignificant. People were bustling all around, paying no mind to him, too busy trying to get to wherever they were headed. He found it strangely comforting.

“Harry! Over here!” He heard Gemma shouting over the low hum of the crowd. He turned around in the direction her voice was coming from and was nearly knocked off his feet with the force of her hug. He hugged her back just as tight, squeezing his eyes shut, willing the tears to go away. Only then does he notice Louis standing a few feet back, watching them with a fond smile. Gemma pulls back and laughs, tears pooling in her eyes.

“I’ve missed you so much, baby brother!” She says, smoothing his hair and tucking some of it behind his ears. “Your hair is getting longer,” she comments with a smirk.

“Yeah, it is,” He says because he’s just so overwhelmed right now, and they’re standing in the middle of the busy train station even though it’s late and he’s gay, his secret is out, someone (albeit it’s just his mother) knows and he’s scared and excited all at once. He looks to Louis again, who gives him a small smile and waves.

“Good t’see ya again, mate,” He says and pats Harry on the back. Harry blushes and smiles sheepishly at Louis, finding himself enjoying the way his name sounds coming from Louis’ airy voice. 

“Yeah, you too.”

“Alright, c’mon, let’s show you our little place, you’re going to love it! It’s so fab!” Gemma exclaims, linking her arms through Harry and Louis’ and pulling them out into the city. Harry kept stumbling along, too busy being distracted staring at the tall buildings and all the lights, they were so bright and inviting. Harry was in love with the city already and he hadn’t even been there an hour. Gemma lead them to their apartment, a small thing on the fourth floor. There were three bedrooms, one bathroom a kitchen and small entertaining area. It was small, and a bit dirty and all over the place, but Gemma and Louis were both proud of their decoration and the fact that they had enough money to be able to decorate it to their interests. Most of the furniture was found on the side of the streets, or given to them from their friends. Gemma ducked off to the toilet to whiz and Louis showed Harry around more.

“Woah, your place is friggin’ awesome! You painted on the walls yourself?” Harry asks, tracing the doves painted on the wall above the mattress in Louis’ room.

“Yeah, landlord doesn’t care what we do as long as we fix it up and make it decent when we leave. He’s a pretty chill dude, a bit bent, but he gave us the place for mad cheap. So.” Louis explains with a shrug. Harry caught himself staring at Louis’ lips more than once. He never put into thought how hard it was going to be, living in such a small space with Louis constantly around. He led Harry to what will now be his bedroom, the former roommate who moved out a few months ago had painted the walls a deep purple and covered the window with a black sheet. Harry didn’t like that, it was too dark.

“I figure you’ve had a long day, but Gemma was very excited about you coming and she planned a little get together with the people we’ve met. They’re nice people, bunch of doves I’d say. They’re all dying to meet you.” 

“Oh? That’s silly, I’m nothing special.” Harry says quietly as he set his bags down on the mattress. 

“Oh, love, you’re absolutely something special. They’ll love you regardless, I bet it’s hard to upset people with a face and personality like yours.” Louis tells him with a wink and Harry felt himself blushing furiously. He looks down at his dirty shoes, biting back a smile. Gemma appears then, her long, flowing dress brushing the carpet, coming into Harry’s view. 

“I hope you’re ready to meet some lovely people!” She says and drags Harry out of his room and down to the stairwell, Louis following close behind.

They arrived at a small and dark club. The music was loud and the air reeked of stale beer and sweat. People were jumping around to the music, laughing and spilling their drinks without a care. Harry felt out of place, he was still wearing his burgundy sweater shirt and brown trousers. They walk to a booth in the very back, four people already sat there with almost empty drinks and dopey smiles across their faces.

“Everyone this is my baby brother! Harry, this is everyone!” Gemma announces with her ever present smile. Everyone smiled back at Harry and introduced themselves.

“Ah yes, the young Harry who we’ve heard so much about,” A boy with long sand-colored hair and grey eyes spoke, hugging Gemma close to his side. He must be Johnny, Gemma’s boyfriend. “Names Jonny, have a seat kid,” He says and Harry slides in after Louis. They’re a small crowd, varying in looks and interests, one thing they all had in common was their beliefs in free love and equality for all and stopping the war. There was a boy with skin the color of caramel with golden eyes framed with thick, black lashes, his name was Zayn and he was beautiful, Harry couldn’t believe he was real. What shocked Harry the most was when he turned to his left to kiss the girl with white-blonde hair and heavy make-up, then turned to his right to kiss the boy with big arms and warm brown eyes. A boy was kissing another boy and nobody seemed to care.

Conversations were whirring about the booth, overlapping each other and mingling together. Harry mostly sat back and listened, drinking the beer some girl placed in front of him without checking if he was actually 18. He had a feeling they didn’t much care about that either. Harry laughed and agreed along with everyone, feeling blitzed after only three beers. After his fourth though, he just felt completely exhausted, finding it hard to keep up with the conversations flowing about.

“You look tired,” Louis says to Harry, quiet enough for only him to hear. 

“A bit, yeah. Had a long day.” He says, relishing in their close proximity, he could feel Louis’ hot breath on his lips, could smell the alcohol in it.

“Wanna split?” Louis asks him, his _blueblueblue_ eyes shining even in the dark area. Harry nodded eagerly, and followed Louis out of the booth. All eyes were on them as they stood up.

“Right, me and baby Harry here are absolutely knackered. Gonna go catch some z’s. Until next time,” He says and pretends to tip a hat to the group. They all bid their goodbye’s and Louis slung his arm around Harry’s shoulders, leading him to the exit. They’re both quiet at first, letting the cool night air sober them up on their journey home, Harry clinging to Louis tighter than probably necessary.

“So, what’d you think of the crowd?” Louis asks, breaking the silence.

“Everyone was so great, so interesting. I’m still in a bit of shock at what I saw, about some of their confidence and I don’t mean it in a bad way, it’s a beautiful thing really, I admire it. I felt…comfortable, like I finally fit in.” Harry rambles, stumbling over his words and eliciting an amused chuckle out of Louis. “Sorry, m’a bit drunk,” He apologizes and yawns loudly.

“Yeah, I can tell.” Louis jokes. Harry just hums and rests his head on Louis’ shoulder.

“New York is very pretty. Pretty buildings, pretty lights. Pretty people. Everyone here is so lovely,” Harry says dreamily. 

“Not everyone. Hate to be the one to lay it out on you, but although there are a lot of accepting people, there are also a lot of people who do not accept people like us.” Louis sighs. 

“People like us?”

“Y’know, hippies. Doves. Nonconformists. Pacifists. Homosexuals. Faggots. They’ve got a whole list of names for people like us,” Louis says nonchalantly. Harry tenses at the mention of the word ‘faggots’.They make it to their complex, and by the third flight, Harry is positive his legs are going to give out underneath him. Louis helps him make it up the last flight of stairs to their floor and deposits Harry on his bed.

“I don’t like that word,” Harry whispers to Louis before he can leave.

“What word?” 

“Faggot. It’s not nice, it sounds so mean and it _hurts_ people.” Harry tells Louis as he absentmindedly beings to strip out of his clothes, not even thinking. “You believe in free love, don’t you, Louis?” He asks once he’s down to just his pants.

“Of course I do, Harry. Everyone should be able to love who they want, regardless of gender, race, religion…none of that matters if the love is true.” Louis says, throwing a blanket over Harry as he lies down, and Harry stares up at him in awe.

“So, like, you’re okay with gay people?” 

“I’d be a hypocrite if I weren’t,” He says and smiles at Harry before kissing his temple. “Welcome to New York City Harry, you’re going to love it and hate it all the same. Goodnight.” He says and leaves the room.

\+ 

Harry’s first two weeks in the city are spent lounging around his new apartment, looking for a place to work and going out with Louis and Gemma’s friends. They’re great, really. Harry is finally able to express his true beliefs and feelings about the world around him and he doesn’t get yelled at and told that he is wrong and his opinions could get him in a lot of trouble if heard by the wrong person. But here, in their little side of the city, everyone was open and accepting.

They’re getting ready to go another club, this one was going to be filled with black lights and Harry hasn’t been to one yet.

“So, I figured it would be pretty rad to paint ourselves so we’d glow under the black lights…” Louis trails off with a wry smile. Harry perks up from his seat on a bean bag in the corner and jumps up, taking the package of paints from Louis’ hands.

“Woah, this is friggin’ boss, Louis!” Harry exclaims excitedly. “Will you paint me?” He asks hopefully, biting his lip.

“Y-yeah, I mean…if you want.” Louis says and Harry’s stomach flip-flops at the slight blush staining Louis’ cheeks pink.

“Yeah,” Harry breathes, handing the paints back to Louis. Louis opens the package and takes out purple first. He looks up at Harry, a small smile playing on his lips as his brings the pencil up to Harrys cheek, just under his left eye and begins to draw. Harry’s eyes never leave Louis as he works, he’s fascinated by the boy, the way his brows draw together and his tongue pokes out the tiniest bit in concentration. The paint glides on easily, the consistency of clay or that cream make-up his mother wore (Harry had put it on once, he was just curious is all). Louis steps back, placing the purple pencil down and grabs the white one. He dots under Harry’s right eye, across his nose and above his left eye. Louis steps back and puts the pencil down, studying Harry.

“Looks amazing, I’m surprised it didn’t turn out like complete shit, we all know I can’t draw for shit.” Louis jokes and smiles brightly at Harry, looks satisfied with his work, but Harry doesn’t want him to be done yet, so he acts on impulse.

“Wait, I-can you paint my, like, chest?” Harry says, tugging the hem of his shirt.

“Sure,” Louis says, his eyes trailing down to Harry’s hands and watches as he pulls the shirt over his head. He’s staring, he’s seen Harry’s naked torso before, and honesty it shouldn’t affect him this much. His eyes snap up to Harry’s face when he clears his throat and finds Harry smirking at him with the prettiest rose-colored, dimpled cheeks.

“Right. Er-d’you have anything specific you want? Like, I’m not an artist but I could try my best…” Louis stammers.

“I was thinking maybe a butterfly…here…” Harry says, fingers gently tracing the skin under his pecs.

“Okay, alright,” Louis said and picked up green this time. He looked up at Harry before he began to draw. Harry could feel his hot breath on his abdomen with every exhale and he could feel his cock twitch in interest. He tears his eyes from Louis’ position and looks up to the ceiling, squeezing his eyes shut and thinking about anything but how close Louis is to him and how badly he wants to kiss him. His skin prickles with goosebumps as the clay-like paint transfers onto his skin. Harry manages to stop the blood from flowing directly to his cock, and watches Louis as he draws on Harry’s chest. He finishes the butterfly, and then continues to draw random shapes and designs on his arms and across his collarbones. He stands up when he’s done, setting the yellow pencil back in the packages and wiping his hands on his pants, dirtying and probably staining them.

“All done,” He says simply and smiles up at Harry, all crinkly eyes and pointy teeth. Harry goes into Gemma’s room and looks at himself in the mirror, staring in awe at the little doodles scattered about his body. They weren’t anything spectacular, Louis wasn’t lying-he was no artist- but they turned out just fine, all bright and happy looking. He turns back to Louis and grins hugely.

“My turn.” He says, taking the package from Louis’ hands and tugging Louis’ shirt off. Harry takes his time, he can’t not try to perfect the petals on the flowers he draws, or make sure the rays on the sun on Louis’ cheek are all equally spaced and even in size. His hands shake as he makes his way down to Louis’ chest, the small spattering of hair in the middle, his tummy that Harry has a fond obsession with even though Louis hates it and tries his hardest to get rid of it. Harry draws two little doves holding a banner saying “free love” across Louis’ collarbones.

“You’re so talented, H. I’ve seen your drawings that you leave around, why haven’t you tried selling some of your work? I’m sure you’d make some money off it, even just as a thing to do on the side…” Louis says as he studies Harry’s work in the mirror. Harry just shrugs, unsure how to accept the compliment.

“I have another surprise for you,” Louis tells Harry with a sly grin. “Close your eyes and don’t move,” He says, placing his hands on Harry’s shoulders before backing away, making sure Harry stays in his spot and doesn’t peek. When he comes back, he takes Harry’s hands from his sides and places something cold in them. “Open,” Louis says and Harry does, blinking his eyes back into focus.

“Louis! Woah, how’d you get this?” Harry asks, staring at the bottle of vodka in his hands.

“Stole it from that bar I sometimes work at,” He answers with a shrug. Harry giggles and hands it back to Louis for him to open it. Louis grabs two shot glasses, quickly filling each to the brim. “To a good night!” Louis says loudly, bringing a giggle out of Harry. They clink their glasses together and throw them back. The liquor burns Harry’s throat, leaves a bitter taste on his tongue, but he relishes in it. They take two more shots and then Louis decides to just take it straight from the bottle, back and forth. Harry’s cheeks are rosy, his smile dopey and his words slurred by the time they finish two-thirds of the bottle.

“Ready to go? Gems is just gonna meet us there,” Louis says, pulling Harry to his feet. Harry slurs his answer and pulls on a shirt that’s probably one of Gemma’s, what with the floral design, but he didn’t much mind. He didn’t even bother to button it up, it was hot and he wanted to show off the pretty green butterfly painted on his abdomen. Louis slid on a vest, baring his arms and just enough of his chest to see the banner Harry drew.

They stumble their way to the club, saving what little money they had in their pockets for drinks instead of a cab. It was literally down the block, their apartment lying on 11th street, the bar just around the corner on 10th. They hardly took a cab anywhere, they were short on money and never traveled far.

Louis has his arms slung across Harry’s shoulders, despite the younger boy being taller than him by quite a few inches. They banter back and forth, Louis eliciting his favorite laugh from Harry, the one that’s loud and obnoxious and slips out without any warning and Harry has to slap his hands over his mouth to stifle it. Louis finds it endearing, while everyone else finds it annoying.

They wait a long time before finally stepping foot in the club, and Harry’s jaw drops in awe at the way they glow, at how beautiful Louis’ eyes look with the white daisy drawn around his right eye, and he may be drunk but he’s pretty sure Louis is looking at him just the same, all wide, hungry eyed and dry mouthed. Louis licks his lips and takes Harry’s hand.

“C’mon, let’s dance!” Louis shouts, dragging them further into the crowd. Harry’s not really much of a dancer, his limbs are too long to control, but Louis, Louis loves dancing, loves feeling the beat pound in his chest, loves the feeling of bodies too close moving together along with the music. Harry watches Louis move and tries to at least sway his hips to some type of rhythm. Louis notices his uncertainty and laughs at him. He turns his back to Harry, taking his hands and placing them on his hips and grinds back against Harry’s crotch and, woah, he really liked that, like too much. Louis continues, moving and grinding and jumping along to the music and Harry tries his best to follow and also to not pop a stiffy while Louis’s perfect ass grinds back against him, that same bum that Harry definitely fantasized about multiple times after his first meeting with Louis back during his spring break months ago.

They continue to dance, Harry eventually not caring enough to move his body freely and goofily. They dance until they’re panting, covered in sweat, their body paintings smudging. Harry goes to the bar to get drinks, because his charm and pretty eyes get him free drinks more often and with less work than Louis’ sarcastic wit and foreign accent. He’s leaning against the bar, catching his breath and waiting for his drinks when he feels someone press up against his side. He knows instantly that it isn’t Louis, because this body is bigger, taller than not only Louis’, but his own. He looks over and finds a man with dark hair grinning down at him.

“Pretty little thing you are,” he says to Harry, eyes raking over his body. Harry blushes under the bluntness of the man’s tone. “I like these purple petals around your eye, they make the green of your eyes so beautiful and bright, even in this dark club,” He says, long, skinny fingers just barely brushing against the soft skin under Harry’s eye.

“Th-thanks…” Harry stutters.

“What’s your name, doll?” He asks, leaning his elbow on the bar, resting his head in his hand.

“Um, m’names Harry,” The man grins even wider.

“Harry, lovely name for a lovely face. I’m Nick, by the way. I know I’m being very blunt here, I hope you don’t take it the wrong way, but I just couldn’t keep my eyes off you all night. I saw you out there,” he says, head nudging towards the dance floor, “dancing with some boy-” 

“Louis!” Harry says loudly with a bright smile,

“Louis?”

“The boy I was dancing with, his names Louis.” The mans smile falters a bit.

“He your boyfriend?” Harry blushes at this question, shaking his head.

“Oh, no, he’s just a friend,” Harry says sadly, but still smiles because this guy wasn’t bad looking and he was wearing nice clothes so maybe Harry could get a few free drinks from him, too. Harry would never turn down a free drink.

The man, Nick, talks with Harry for a few more minutes until Harry and Louis’ drinks are _finally_ set in front of him and he looks over to Nick, not really wanting to just end the conversation. He’s pretty interesting and almost, if not just as witty and smart as Louis. So, harry invites him to go back and sit with him and Louis. Nick obliges happily and shouts to the bartender for another drink and the man obey immediately. Nick winks at Harry as he stares with his mouth wide open. It took Harry nearly twenty minutes to get two drinks.

“He’s an old friend of mine, owes me a few favors,” Nick says and maybe Harry should be worried about the glint in Nick’s eye, but he shoves it aside and walks to the back, looking for Louis.

“Guys, this is my new friend, Nick, Nick, this is Louis, my sister Gemma and her boyfriend Johnny,” Harry says, interrupting whatever conversation they had going on before he made it to the booth. Gemma and Johnny smile and greet him kindly, but Louis just nods curtly at Nick and says nothing. “Glad you finally made it Gems,” Harry adds and kisses his sister’s cheek before taking his seat next to Louis and Nick sliding in after him.

Louis’ mood had noticeably dropped when Harry brought Nick back with him from the bar. He had seen them, saw the way Nick approached Harry and the way he looked at him like he was some kind of prize. Gone was his dopey drunk smile, and in it’s place was a straight mouth and judging eyes. Harry ignores it though, of course he does, because he’s too busy laughing at whatever Nick says.

“Louis, we’re going dancing! Come with us!” Harry exclaims. He’s even more drunk now, Nick had rubbed the fact that he knew the bartender into everyones face by providing them with free drinks and Harry took advantage of it. He was so drunk he could barely stand on his own, Nick placing a hand to his elbow to steady him. Louis’ stomach twisted.

“Nah, you go on, I still have to finish me drink!” Louis says with as much fake joy he can muster, he doesn’t want to hurt Harry’s feelings even though the boy is unknowingly doing the exact thing to him. He knows Harry means no harm, because Harry doesn’t even know how Louis feels about him. Harry is off limits to Louis, what with him being his best friend’s younger brother and all. The words never left Gemma’s mouth, but he knows how it works, he has four younger sisters himself.

“Are you sure?” Harry asks and he’s biting his lip, Louis knows that when Harry wants to do something but feels guilty about it, that Harry bites his lip, worries it between his teeth. He wants to reach out and gently tug his plump lip from his teeth. He doesn’t. He stays seated, hands tightly grasping his drink. Nick rolls his eyes and whispers something into Harry’s ear.

“Positive. Go have fun and try not to knock anyone out in the process you baby giraffe!” He jokes to ease the worry from Harry’s face and it works. He smiles down at Louis once more before gallivanting off into the crowd with Nick.

“What the hell was that about?” Gemma asks once the two are out of sight.

“I don’t like him,” Louis sighs, accepting the joint from Johnny’s fingers.

“Nick? He seems…well he’s a bit ape isn’t he and what’s up wit his hair?” Gemma says and they all chuckle.

“Yeah. All those enthusiastic anti-war protestors are a bit wonky in the head, I recon. We all are, but something about Nick doesn’t sit right with me.” Louis says, finishing off his drink and standing. “Right. Well, I’m off. I’m absolutely knackered.” He says to the couple.

“If you say so,” Gemma says with half open eyes.

“Bye Louis, don’t talk to strangers!” Johnny jokes and it send the two into fits. Louis sighs and heads towards the exit. The summer night air greats him warmly, there’s a slight breeze that feels good against his sweat-slicked skin. He’s a bit drunk and a bit baked but he manages the streets just fine. He probably looks crazy what with the body paint smeared, with no way of telling what shapes any of them were supposed to be. When he gets to the apartment he runs a wet rag over his skin, getting most of the paint off before collapsing into bed. Louis wakes when Gemma and Johnny get in, and closes his eyes and wills himself to go back to sleep when they start kissing and their breathing turns into moaning. By the time Harry stumbles home, nearly knocking a lava lamp off a side table, the sun is almost up, and everyone is fast asleep.


	4. IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Writing this is a lot harder than I thought it would be. I'm doing more research for this than for any high school or college paper I've ever written (I'm just trying to make it as historically accurate as I can). Anyways, here is chapter 4!
> 
> (Also, Jimmy James and the Blue Flames was Jimi Hendrix's band before he was discovered by Chas Chandler while they played at the famous 'Cafe Wha?')

Harry sleeps in until late afternoon, sleeps right through the big, greasy breakfast Gemma and Louis prepared, and he sleeps through the little fallout Gemma and Johnny have before Gemma goes off to some meeting, preparing for a rally or protest of sorts. It’s a regular thing, they always work it out before the day ends.

It’s when Louis is just about to leave for work, that Harry stumbles out from his still dark purple room, groaning and shielding his eyes from the sunset shining directly in through the window. “Good morning Cinderella,” Louis says, not looking away from the mirror as he tries to get his tie on right. He has a job as a waiter at some fancy hotel, gets paid under the table, but he only ever works two or three days a week and it doesn’t pay much.

Harry groans in response and fills a glass of water from the sink, chugs it all, and fills it up again. “My throat feels like sandpaper,” Harry says and the roughness of his voice makes Louis tense.

“What time did you get in last night?”

“I don’t even know. Pretty late, I remember Nick said he had to be up for work in two hours when I was leaving.” Harry says thoughtfully, staring out the window and finishing his water.

“You were with Nick _all_ night? Did you go back to his?” Louis asks, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Yeah, he’s great, Lou. He’s so…smart, and passionate, y’know? We talked all night and I really enjoyed it.” He takes a bite out of the cold toast left for him on a plate.

“That’s all you did, was talk?” Louis tries not to sound too hopeful, he just really doesn’t want to think about someone as grimy and sneaky as Nick putting his hands on Harry. Louis really doesn't like him, his eyes are cold and wicked.

“Yeah.” Harry says, obliviously. “I told him that I drew and liked to paint and stuff and that I enjoy writing, too? He mentioned that he works at some magazine called The Underground Radicals and that he’d put in word for me! Lou, I could have like a real job, isn’t that exciting?” Harry says with a big hopeful grin. Louis smiles back weakly, and ruffles Harry’s hair, greasy from sweat and not being washed after a few days.

“Yeah, sounds lovely. Don’t get your hopes up though, kid,” Louis says and misses the way Harry’s face falters when he calls him ‘kid’.

“Why not? He sounded very sure of it…” Harry mumbles, frowning and biting his lip. Louis sighs, he’s going to be late for work but he knows he’s upset Harry. He walks over to him and squeezes his shoulder.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I just-I meant like it might not be what you expect? Just be careful, y’know? Some people out there are going to extremes to protest against this war and for certain rights. Don’t get yourself caught up with the wrong people alright?” He says, and combs his fingers through Harry’s knotted curls. Harry nods, not looking up from his bare feet.

“M’not a kid,”

“What?” 

“You and Gems, you both coddle me and treat me like I’m some little child that can’t take care of himself! I _can_ , I cook for us most nights, I do most of the washing-”

“Shit, listen H, I can’t do this right now, I’m going to be late for work,” Louis says exasperatedly and leaves without a second glance back at Harry, who's eyes are red with fresh frustrated tears trekking down his cheeks. The door shuts loud behind Louis and Harry takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He’s tired of being babied, he’s been babied his whole life. How is he supposed to fend for himself if nobody gives him the chance to? Nick hadn’t treated Harry like a child last night, he treated him as an equal. They had a long conversation about serious things going on in the world. He wasn’t a child. He was eighteen, for Christ’s sake!

He angrily shoves his feet into his shoes by the door and grabs his keys, he is supposed to meet Nick again at some coffeehouse. He figured a little walk before wouldn’t hurt anyone. He welcomes the warm air, and the light breeze that blows through his curls, ruffling them and tousling them about.

The sun is setting and casts shadows along the buildings on the street. Harry grew up in the suburbs, he grew up on fresh cut and properly maintained green lawns, and in-ground pools, shiny cars dotting each driveway. Where he lives now is so much more different than what he’s used to, and he falls in love with the city more and more with every passing day. The constant hum of traffic on the streets below the apartment has become his lullaby of some sorts. He loves how he can walk the same street every day and still find something new about it, the city is always changing and Harry learns that he, too, is changing along with it. It’s exciting and scary all at once.

He heads towards the coffeehouse Nick had told him about, had sloppily scribbled the address on a spare napkin. Harry approaches the building, a small line forming outside. He looks around and hopes that there isn’t an entry fee because he doesn’t have much and would rather spend it on drinks. 

“Harry!” Harry hears the familiar voice, he smiles at Nick and walks up to him. “Hello darling, how are you feeling?” Nick asks with a knowing smirk. Harry shrugs, tries to act like the amount of alcohol he consumed the previous night didn’t affect him as much as it truly did.

“I’ve felt worse,” He says and Nick chuckles. “Uhm, is there an entry fee for here?” Harry sheepishly asks.

“Only if you don’t know the right people. Lucky for you, little duck, I’m a well known name. We get in free, and the drinks for us are only half price.” Nick flaunts, wrapping his arm around Harry’s shoulder and winking at him. Harry just stares up at him in awe, wondering what Nick does to be so well known.

“How do you know so many people?” Nick chuckles at Harry’s wonderstruck awe.

“I get around town, if you know what I mean,” He says with a wink.

“I don’t think I understand…” Harry says, brows furrowed.

“You can’t get to the top without doing a few dirty deeds. I’ve done my fair share of dirty deeds in this community, some not-so-dirty, too. You make a name for yourself, people talk, people _always_ talk and it can turn out well for you, if you play your cards right. You being here with me tonight, you’re off to a good start.” Nick says and Harry isn’t really sure what he’s getting at.

“Off to a good start for what?”

“You mentioned your hobbies last night, singing, writing, all that, remember?” He asks and Harry nods his head in agreement. “I want to introduce you to a few close friends of mine. I like your attitude, you seem like a good, well educated guy, we need someone like that working for us.” Nick says and Harry preens under Nick’s affection, cheeks dimpling.

“Wow, this is incredible. I feel like I should have dressed…not in yesterday’s clothes, probably shoulda washed my hair, too-“

“We don’t care about your appearance, although you’re easy on the eyes, you're like sex on legs,” Harry blushes profusely, shaking his head. “Ah, there they are, c’mon let’s grab a few drinks and join them,” Nick says, placing his hand at the small of Harry’s back and leading him to the bar. True to his word, the drinks are discounted (Harry still orders a cheap drink).

“Gentlemen,” Nick greets when the walk up to a booth filled with men around Nick’s age, one looks about Harry’s age though. He has bright blonde hair and his cheeks are rosy already.

“Oh Nick, how lovely, is this your boy then?” One of the men says, smiling at Harry.

“Yes, this is Harry. Harry, this is Ezra, Niall and Tommy.” Nick says and Harry smiles politely at all of them.

“Hello, nice to meet you all,” Harry says and shakes each of their hands. They sit down with them and Nick hands out drinks. Harry takes a sip from his fruity concoction, licking the sweetness from his lips.

They begin to talk about their next big thing with their magazine. Harry listens intently, having nothing else better to do. Ezra mentions his brother, how his cousin was arrested the previous week for dressing in drag, having been caught in a bar raid. Harry’s back straightens at this.

“They’re raiding bars, searching for homosexuals and cross-dressers now?” Harry asks, bewildered and outraged.

“You’ve got so much to learn, Harry. Are you gay?” Ezra asks him and Harry is taken aback at the bluntness of his voice.

“Yes.” He says confidently, despite the crawling feeling on his skin.

“You seem proud to admit it,”

“I don’t see a reason not to be proud. I was, at first, ashamed and tried to like girls, but upon moving here, I’ve accepted who I am, accepted that I can’t change and I’m no longer ashamed. Love is love, regardless of gender, race or religion. What’s done in the private bedroom of a home where two people who are in love live, should not concern the government or the nation.” Harry says, voice raising towards the end.

“I can see why you want him on our team,” Niall says to Nick, large grin still shining brightly upon his face. “Isn’t afraid to let you know what he thinks without being _too_ harsh about it. It also doesn’t hurt that he’s got the type of voice people could listen to day in and day out, which would be perfect for the radio.” He comments.

“So you support gay rights, what are your opinions on the war?” Ezra presses, eyes narrowed towards Harry.

“I don’t think there’s a single problem on this planet that can’t be solved without violence." Harry says slowly after a moment. "War is immoral, it’s wrong. And upping the draft, it’s sickening. Nobody wants to be inducted into the military with no say. They’re sending boys my age over there to fight this war. And I don’t think the majority of the people being sent over there even know why they’re fighting these people. Innocent people are being tortured, killed and raped, villages are being destroyed. The men who are lucky enough to come back alive, are broken, they’re wishing they were the ones returning in the body bags, hating to have to live with the things they’ve seen and done. My father’s friend’s son killed himself only two weeks after returning home from battle. This war is wrong, it’s all wrong.” Harry says, breathing heavily. The four men just stare at him, Niall’s grin long gone. Harry sips at his drink and lets out a shaky breath.

“I think we could use a man with well thought out fervor like yours, Harry. There are too many activists out there that are impetuous, their unrestrained actions getting themselves in trouble. We need more people who are able to control their words and actions while also getting the message out and opening the eyes of oblivious people. I think you could help us with that.” Tommy says in a serious business-like tone. Harry tries to bite back his smile and nods, afraid to speak for his voice may com out high pitched and excited. He feels Nick’s hand clapping his shoulder. The three men head to the bar to get more drinks and Harry exhales, looking over at Nick with wide eyes.

“See, little duck, I told you I’d get you a job. Stick with me and you could do great things. Ah, great, just in time for some good music,” He says as one act leaves the stage Harry had completely forgotten about, too caught up in his rant to notice the live music. A black man with big hair and a guitar walked on stage, followed by two white men, one carrying a bass, the other making his way towards the drums set up on stage.

Harry was entranced by their music, a rocky and soulful sound. It was different than the folk music that had been playing when Nick and Harry first walked in. The singer had introduced them as Jimmy James and the Blue Flames. He sat back and enjoyed their set, slowly drinking the drinks Niall, Ezra and Tommy had brought back. No one was talking anymore, except for the random comment about the music being performed in front of them.

“This band plays here quite often, they’ve got a small gathering of regular listeners. That man, the singer, he’s going to be wonderful one day. Remember that name, remember that face. I’m sure this won’t be the last time you see or hear about him.” Nick tells Harry and Harry totally agrees.

\+ 

Nick walks Harry home, hand never leaving from it’s place low on his back. Harry doesn’t mind the touches, figures it’s just how Nick is, very touchy-feely with everyone he meets. There’s a small part in the back of Harry’s mind whispering that he should be careful around Nick, a small voice warning him, recalling the words Tommy had used to describe some of the protestors and activists, impulsive and unrestrained and how they got into trouble. Harry ignores those thoughts though, pushes them away when Nick looks down and smiles at him as they walk up the steps to Harry’s building. He reaches out a hand and gently brushes his fingers down Harry’s cheek.

“I had a nice time tonight, you know, after your improvised job interview.” Nick chuckles. “Remember where we meet next Monday?” He asks.

Harry nods and says, “Yeah, I remember. I won’t be late, promise. Thank you, Nick, for tonight and getting me a job and all. I don’t know how to make it up to you, but I promise I won’t let you or Niall, Tommy and Ezra down.” Harry says, biting his lip.

“No worries. I know you’ll be great. You’re eager to learn, and true to your word.” Nick says.

“Thank you,” Harry breathes and jumps down a step to hug Nick, squeezing him tightly. Nick pulls back and something flashes in his eyes, then he’s turning on his heel and walking down the street, black coat blending in with the night.

Harry runs up the stairs and bursts through the apartment doors, Gemma, Johnny and Louis all sat on the sofa in front of their new (old to the world, but new to them) television. They all look up at him with worried faces, questioning his dopey grin and excited aura.

“Why are you so chipper?” Johnny asks him.

“I’ve got a job!” Harry exclaims, going to stand in front of the television so they wouldn’t get distracted.

“That’s so great Haz! What will you be doing?” Louis asks, his excited grin matching Harry’s.

“Writing for a magazine, and talking on the radio against the war. Nick got it for me, we met with people he works with, the people that began this small magazine that blew up into this big thing. They’ve got their own radio show! That’s incredible, isn’t it?”

Louis laughs, despite the mention of Nick, “It is incredible, it sounds very exciting. I’m proud of you,” Gemma says, hugging her brother tightly.

“You know what this means, right?” Johnny asks with a wicked smile. Harry smiles back, knowing exactly what it means.

“No, I’m afraid I don’t,” Harry says.

Johnny looks at Gemma and Louis, before they all jump up and shout “CELEBRATORY CLUBBING!”


	5. V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is short, like way shorter than what I wanted it to be. I wanted it to be longer, but I'm currently in the middle of moving so I've been super busy with that and I didn't want to not update and leave you hanging for two weeks. So to make up for it, I'm going to try to make the next chapter nice and lengthy and interesting if the move goes smoothly.

Harry is drunk. He’s standing in the back of the club with Liam, Zayn and Perrie. Gemma and Johnny are off on the dance floor, and Louis has been long gone for awhile, went to dance with some older guy and Harry was finding it hard to not let it bother him. Zayn had noticed, though.

“What’s got you sulking tonight? You're supposed to be happy and celebrating!” He said, bumping his shoulder into Harry’s. Harry turned his glare from Louis and The Guy towards Zayn.

“Nothing’s bothering me,” He grumbles and finishes his drink. He can feel Zayn chuckle next to him. Liam and Perrie give him sympathetic looks and harry blushes and turns back towards the crowd. Apparently his pining his obvious to everyone except the person he's pining over. Lovely. Out of nowhere, Louis bursts through the crowd, smile big and bright and eyes glossed over.

“Come dance with me Haz!” He shouts, his words slurred. He tries to tug Harry from his spot leaning against the wall, but Harry doesn't budge.

“C’mon, please?” Louis begged, literally jutting out his lower lip into a pout. Who was Harry to say no to that face? Even with his stomach churning with jealousy and his heart heavy with the knowledge that Louis doesn't even know how badly he affects Harry, how easy he is to need. Funny how Harry’s love life, or lack thereof, has turned into some cliché. But, Louis is all smiles and drunk and giggly in front of him, swaying his hips along to the Beatles’ Eight Days a Week (an older song and one of Harry’s favorites yet), and Harry is starting to feel the alcohol thrumming through his veins, so he dances along, too. (It also doesn’t help that Harry get’s drunk on Louis' presence alone.)

They dance together, jumping around, all flailing limbs and loud laughs over the music. They goof off like they always do, making complete fool's of themselves and not giving a damn what everyone around them thinks. Louis is beautiful in the dim club lights, eyelashes casting shadows on his sweaty shiny face, eyes so bright in the darkness. Harry's heart aches, but he carries on, pretending to be unaffected, because if he can't have Louis in an intimate way, at least he can have him like this, as his best friend. After only four songs, Harry is breathless, hair plastered to his forehead and the back of his neck with grimy sweat.

“M’gonna get us a drink, don’t move, love,” Louis tells Harry, squeezing his hand before making his way through the crowd. Harry keeps moving along to the music, and dances with a drunk girl with hair shorter than his, dressed in clothes not too different than the ones on his back. She comes back with four shots and Harry takes his two. Two turns into three and before Harry realizes it, he's taken five shots. Now, It's no secret that Harry is a lightweight-Gemma always picks on him about it. It doesn't take long for his blood to turn into alcohol, loosening his limbs and making his brain fuzzy. It's then, that he realizes that Louis hasn't come back and that it's been at least three songs and it never takes Louis long to get drinks because he's a shameless flirt, using his British accent to it's full advantage. He decides to go find Louis by the bar, needing a break from dancing anyways. He pushes through the thick crowd of drunk and sweaty people, his head shoots up when he hears Louis’ airy laugh, finds him leaning against the bar, hip cocked out. There’s a blonde boy, shorter than even Louis, but with big biceps and dark eyes stood in front of him, his hand resting on Louis’ bicep in a way even Harry could easily tell as flirtatious. Jealous and without thinking, Harry shoves past two guys dancing together, and places himself right in between Louis and The Blonde Guy. Louis gives Harry a confused look, brows drawn in together.

“What’re you doin’ H?” Louis asks, lips stretching into a fake and annoyed smile.

“I could ask you the same,” Harry slurs, the guy behind him clearing his throat. Harry whips his body around, facing him. “You can go on, now,” Harry spits at him. His eyebrows shoot up, but he finishes his drink and tips his head to Louis then leaves. Harry turns back to Louis, who’s eyes are hard and icy.

“Seriously, what the fuck Harry?”

“Why were you talking to him?”

“I’m sorry, _mum_ , I didn’t know I needed your approval of who I can or can't talk with?”

“He was flirting with you, Lou,” Harry says sadly.

“Yes! And I was flirting back, that’s how it works…”

“But-“

“But what, Harry?” Louis asks, and he’s leaning forward, waiting for Harry to finally say it, he’s been waiting so long to hear it. Harry’s eyes keep flicking back and forth between Louis’ _blue blue blue_ eyes and his pretty dusty pink lips, shiny from spit. He could do it, he could easily close the distance between their lips right now. But he doesn’t, he’s too scared, doesn’t want to freak Louis out and have to face the rejection and awkwardness bound to follow. So, he steps back, looks down at his feet and swallows back the lump in his throat.

“Nothing.” Harry mumbles. “I’ve gotta, I’m just gonna-” He stops when he hears Louis sigh heavily and laugh disbelievingly.

“Are you really that thick-headed, H?” Louis says, his eyes glinting with fondness and adoration towards the younger boy in front of him.

“What?”

“Kiss me, kiss me like we both know you’ve been wanting to do since that very first day back in the suburbs.” Louis says, placing his hand high up on Harry’s thigh, leaning his weight on it. He’s so close that Harry goes a bit cross-eyed looking at him. “C’mon, do it…” Louis whispers, hot, sweet-scented breath tickling Harry’s lips. Harry just sits there, frozen in place, heart beating erratically. He looks down to Louis’ lips and thinks _fuck it_ and grabs him by the back of his neck and pulls him in the rest of the way, a crash of lips, the clinking of teeth, breathing hotly into each other’s mouths. It’s dirty, rough and desperate, weeks and weeks of pent up sexual frustration, of dancing around each other and unavoidable jealousy, finally getting it's relief. It’s different than Harry had imagined his first kiss going, he always thought it would be gentle, sweet and shy. This is a polar opposite, Louis licking into his mouth dirtily, knotting his fingers into Harry’s long hair, sharp teeth nipping at his lower lip. Harry whines when Louis pulls back, a shit-eating grin gracing his face, eyes devilish and teasing.

“Well, aren’t you a sight to see,” Louis tells Harry, raking his eyes down his body and back to his face. Harry flushes under his scrutiny, breathing heavy, eyes glossy with blown-out pupils, lips an obscene shade of red and spit-slick. “Better get you back to the flat before anyone else sees you in the state you're in, might want to try and take you from me,” Louis purrs, taking Harry’s hand and pulling him towards the exit. Harry’s so lightheaded and fuzzy-brained that he just let’s Louis take him, feet moving underneath him effortlessly. He’s dazed, feels high like he’s on another planet. He just kissed Louis. And Louis is a _boss_ kisser, he definitely knew what he was doing, knew how to make Harry’s knees go weak. Harry has never felt so lucky ever in his life.

“Louis,” Harry drawls, voice husky and far-away as they climb the stairs in their building.

“Yeah love?”

“I kissed you. And you kissed me back. We kissed.” He says, body feeling loose and light, eyes slowly blinking down at Louis dreamily.

“That we did, little Harry. Though, I guess you’re not so little,” Louis says and Harry cocks his head at him, not understanding. Louis smirks and nods his head down to Harry’s groin. Harry looks down and flushes, choking on air and goes to cover himself.

“Oh my gosh, woah, this is-I’m so-sorry, this is so embarrassing,” Harry says and Louis laughs lightly and kisses Harry’s forehead, pulling Harry's hands away from his lap.

“Nothing to be ashamed of,” Louis says, taking one of Harry’s hands and guiding it to his own crotch, letting Harry feel his own half hard cock. Harry’s eyes grow wide, breath rushing out of his lungs instantly. “You feel how hard you got me? Just from kissing me. I knew that mouth was nothing but trouble,” Louis whispers, voice low and hot.

“You think-you think I’m a good kisser?” Harry asks shyly.

“Mmm, definitely. Why?”

“I’ve never, uh, I’ve never kissed anyone before, is the thing.” This makes Louis perk up, sit back and look at Harry questioningly.

“Really?”

“Yeah…is that, like, a bad thing?” Harry asks, shrinking back and not meeting Louis’ gaze.

“No! No, no, not at all. It’s just, I mean, I just, I feel kinda bad, now?”

"What do you mean?" Harry asks, stomach sinking and feels himself sobering up far too quickly for his liking.

“Well, I feel like your first kiss shouldn’t just be a drunken snog, y’know?” And there it is, Harry _knew_ it was coming and it still fucking hurts.

“Is that, is this all that is to you? Just some _drunken snog_?” Harry scoffs, eyes stinging with oncoming tears. He turns his body away from Louis, crossing his arms angrily and tight across his chest.

“Wait, no, that isn’t what I meant,” Louis pleads, trying to tug Harry’s arms free from their tight embrace, wrapped around his chest.

“C’mon, H. I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant, like, it should’ve been with someone you care about…” Harry’s body sags at that. He turns to Louis with sad, glossy eyes and a pout upon his red lips.

“ _God_ , this isn’t my friggin’ virginity! Besides, I do care about you, Lou. I’m...I'm glad you were my first kiss. I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else,” Harry says quietly, voice shaking but he holds Louis’ gaze regardless of how badly he wants to look away and hide the pink blush of his cheeks and his eyes heavy with worry and fear of rejection.

“You wouldn’t’ve?” Louis asks, just to be sure. Harry bites his lip to hide the smile threatening to split across his face and nods. Louis tugs his lip free from his teeth, running the pad of his thumb along it. Harry’s eyes never leave Louis’, he watches as the flit across the features of his face and finally come back to meet his. He offers Harry a shy smile, something Harry has only ever seen a small handful of times before. Louis leans in and places a gentle kiss to Harry’s lips, mouth still sticky and sweet and soft. He cards his fingers through Harry’s knotted and sweaty curls, thumb caressing his cheek.

“Y'know, I could get used to this, kissing you. It’s quite nice.” Louis whispers against his lips and Harry giggles, hiding his face behind his big hands because this is _real_ , this is actually happening. His life is finally starting to fall together, gaining purpose, he’s making friends, he’s starting a _real_ job promoting what he loves and believes in, and he just kissed the prettiest and most attractive boy he’s ever laid eyes on, he’s fucking _ecstatic_.


	6. VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a day late, but I finally got (most of) my stuff unpacked and set up. Slowly settling into the new place. Here's the sixth chapter sorry for the delay. Sorry for any mistakes. Hope you enjoy it and thank you for reading! X

Harry wakes to the pink dawn, budding like a rose from the night’s dark cloak. He feels a warm body behind his, holding him close, his stomach flutters at the knowledge of who it is. He snuggles closer, and watches as the sun climbs the sky, shining in through his window, dissolving the dark, bright and loud and clear as ever.

Harry loves early mornings, because the first few moments when he wakes up he forgets what is hurting him and what makes him happy, he forgets that the world just outside of his window is chaotic and falling apart while so many people are fighting to bring it back together in peace, his conscience is clean, he is himself entirely in those few seconds of waking, he is as warm and new as the day itself. He loves that his window faces the east, loves being woken by the sun when he remembers to pull the dark shade from the window at night, loves being bathed in the earliest sunshine, feeling pure.

It’s hot, the duvet kicked to the bottom of the bed, the heat of two nearly naked bodies pressed so close together all night is almost unbearable now. But, Harry doesn’t want to spoil the moment, wants to stay wrapped up with Louis, feeling little puffs of air on the back of his neck, tickling the hair that falls there. He laces his fingers with Louis’ and the sleeping boy unconsciously squeezes back. Harry falls back asleep with a gentle smile on his lips and a full, fluttering heart.

\+ 

The next time Harry wakes, there is no sun shining in his face warming his skin, no, but there is a beautiful boy with cerulean eyes and sharp teeth smiling down at him. Harry slowly blinks up at him, he looks like an angel with the rays of the sun shining in a halo around his head. He runs his hand through Harry’s ever growing hair, scratching at his scalp and getting the knots out. Harry hums in pleasure.

“Good morning kitten,” Louis whispers. Harry smiles and blushes at the pet name, hiding his face in the pillow.

“Kitten?” Harry asks, peeking up from the pillows, his voice thick with sleep still. Louis is stilling smiling at him.

“Yup. You remind me of a little kitten in the morning, sleepy eyed, warm and cuddly and, well, you are practically _purring_ right now.” Louis says and Harry laughs lightly. He pushes his head further into Louis’ hands, closing his eyes again. He could stay right in this moment forever, he thinks. But, of course, the world continues on and _something_ has to break their peaceful moment. That something is Harry’s stomach growling. He groans and crosses his arms over his stomach, and Louis laughs, kissing his temple and untangling himself.

“C’mon, time to get up and eat,” Louis says and throws a shirt over his head. Harry stretches and follows Louis, foregoing a shirt, body still overly warm from sleeping so close to Louis. God, he still can’t believe last night happened. It was just kissing, but it was kissing _Louis_ and it was his first kiss, and _Louis_ thought he was good…good enough to get him hard! Knowing he could have that effect on someone as beautiful as Louis made Harry feel a bit proud and a tiny bit like he could take on the world.

They’re the only ones up, he can hear Johnny’s loud snores from his and Gemma’s room across the hall. He wonders if Gemma knows, if anyone knows, for that matter. They didn’t speak to anyone before they left the club together. Harry sits at the small table, watching Louis as he rummages through the old, rusty refrigerator.

“‘Ere ya go, tea and toast.” Louis says, placing a plate and mug in front of Harry. Harry looks up and smiles at Louis.

“Thank you,” He says quietly and takes a large bite out of the toast, then a large gulp of the hot tea. His throat was sore from the alcohol, his head thrumming a bit but not too bad. Harry likes to think that kissing last night helped dampen the hangover this morning. They steal shy glances and tentative touches all throughout breakfast. It’s cute and lovely and Harry wishes to experience it every morning until his last.

“Good morning lovelies,” Gemma says as she sleepily trudges into the kitchen, Johnny following her and grunting his good morning to Louis and Harry.

“Have fun last night? You two left the club awfully early,” She says and narrows her eyes at Louis, who ducks his head and clears his throat. Johnny snickers into his coffee mug.

“Er, yeah, I was tired and didn’t want to walk back alone so Lou came with me,” Harry lies because Louis didn’t look like he was quite ready or able to speak.

“Mhm,” Gemma says, pouring herself a cup of coffee, still a look of disagreement and a glint to her eyes, which have yet to Leave Louis.

“Oh, nice shirt, Louis,” Johnny comments before going and sitting in their living area with Gemma. Louis and Harry both look down to see what shirt Louis was wearing. Harry’s cheeks go bright red and Louis hides his face in his hands. Louis was wearing Harry’s shirt from the night before, and it was inside out.

Harry clears his throat, “I’m gonna go shower,” He says quietly to Louis before he gets up and heads to the bathroom. He takes a quick shower, water lukewarm at best. As he lathers shampoo into his hair he can’t help but think about how good it felt to have Louis’ fingers running through his curls, and how good his lips felt against Harry’s. He could kiss Louis forever and never grow tired. He feels his cock twitch, quickly hardening. He wants to touch himself, _so bad_ but he knows he can’t keep quiet and these walls are paper thin and everyone would be able to hear him. He bites his lips, and is grateful when the warm water goes out and turns cold, catching him off guard. He quickly rinses the soap from his hair and steps out, fluffing his hair with the towel before wrapping it around his waist.

“Oh. Hi,” Harry says when he walks into his room and finds Louis perched on the foot of his mattress. Louis looks up and his mouth hangs open, his eyes slowly traveling up Harry’s torso. Harry squirms under his heavy gaze, not used to being looked at like _that_.

“Hey. Hi. Um, can we-can we talk?” Louis asks, voice distant and huskier than usual. Harry can’t help but panic at the question. Surely Louis couldn’t have changed his mind? He was so lovely this morning, so soft and kind and caring.

“Yeah, sure,” Harry says, his voice comes out higher and strained. He just stands there, with nothing on but a towel loosely wrapped around his hips.

“You gonna just stand there then?” Louis eyes, left corner of his mouth turning upward.

“Oh, right,” Harry clears his throat and sits down next to Louis, keeping space between them but not too much. He can’t help but want to be near Louis all the time now.

“Okay. So. About last night and this morning-“

“Please, no-”

“No, let me finish, it’s not what you think it is so calm down, love. I’m not going to be _that_ guy,” Louis says, placing a hand on Harry’s bare and damp shoulder and giving him a reassuring smile. “Right. So, I quite enjoyed last night, yeah? And I was just curious as to where that leaves us…”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, I know we were both absolutely pissed, but, everything you said, that was all true, yeah?”

“Y-yeah, yes, it was.” Harry breathes, heart rabbiting in his chest.

“Okay, great. Me too, by the way, I meant every word.” Louis says with a shy smile, his cheeks stained pink. Harry bites his lip and smiles back.

“Gemma is going to murder me, for sure,” Louis laughs.

“I don’t think so,” Harry tells him, lying back on the bed. His hair is still damp and his skin is still freckled with stray droplets of water. He doesn’t really care, to be honest.

“She warned me about you, before I even met you. She told me that you were young and impressionable and that you were unaware-well, more so in denial.”

“Oh, well. I suppose she was right, in a way. You made me realize that it was a sure thing, not just a phase.” Harry confesses.

“What, did you wank to me after we left or sommat?” Louis jokes and Harry’s face turns beet red. Louis’ laughter dies in his throat. “Well, fuck me…” He says and Harry groans, turns his body over and hides his face in his pillows. “Aw, H, you don’t have to be _embarrassed_! Really, it’s…I’m flattered, honestly.” Louis says, placing a hand to Harry’s bare shoulder. Harry stays hidden with his face smushed in the pillows for a moment longer.

“Is that-that doesn’t, like bother you or weird you out?”

“No, not at all. I’d be a hypocrite, if I did…” He says, eyes burning into Harry’s. Harry is slow on the uptake, his eyes widening when he puts it together.

“Oh. _Oh_ …you did…to me?” Harry asks, and Louis nods. Harry’s face lights up. “Woah.” He says and giggles.

“What is so funny about that?” Louis asks, staring at Harry like he’s grown a second head.

“I’m just…I don’t know. I feel weird, it’s a weird thing to hear about someone touching themselves to the thought of you? I kind of like it. It’s _hot_. What did you think about?” Harry asks, sitting up, leaning towards Louis with big, bright curious eyes.

“Er…I don’t really…now isn’t really-“

“Aw, c’mon, Lou! Tell me! Please?” Harry begs, jutting out his lower lip. And _fuck_ if that isn’t one of Louis’ bigger weaknesses. He sighs, giving in. Harry makes an excited noise and sits on his knees, looking like a child who’s just talked their parent into reading them one more story before bed time. Fuck.

“Right. Well, at first I just thought about someone…y’know, sucking me off? Then I saw these obscenely wet and red lips, effortlessly taking me in, inch by inch. And then, watery green eyes looked up at me-“

“You thought about _me_ sucking _your_ …cock?” Harry gasped, Louis turned to him and his cock twitched at the sight of the boy, his pupils blown wide, lips slick with spit, mouth hanging open. Harry is such a tease and he doesn’t even know it.

“Yeah…?”

“Is that something you want me to do?”

“I mean, it would…it’d be nice? But like, it’s not for everyone, y’know? And if that’s how it is for you that’s fine.” Louis begins, then he turns to Harry and places his hands firmly on Harry’s shoulders. “Listen Harry, don’t let anyone try to talk you into doing something you’re not comfortable with. Promise me, alright?” Louis says, forgoing continuing his previous story and turning the conversation serious.

“‘Course, yeah, I promise.”

They stare at each other for a few more seconds, before a breeze from the open window makes Harry shiver. “You should get dressed, Gemma said something the other day about wanting to hit the city sometime.” Louis says to Harry. Harry nods and goes to get up, holding the towel tight around his waist. Sure, he was confident in his body, and yeah he used to walk around naked a lot, but that was _before_ he and Louis kissed, before he was aware of the mutual attraction between the two of them. Louis got the hint and ducked out of the room to tell Gemma and Johnny so they could get ready. Louis jumped in the shower quickly, then changed into a pair of jeans and a simple green t-shirt. Gemma came out wearing a short dress with a belt tied around her waist and brown knee high boots, he long hair cascading over her shoulders in loose waves. She was beautiful, really, Johnny was a lucky guy because not only was she beautiful, but she was smart and devoted and strong willed.

“Where’s Harry?” Gemma asked, sitting on the sofa next to Louis.

“Getting dressed,” Louis answers, knowing exactly what was coming.

“I know you know what I’m going to say. So, don’t fuck it up, yeah? I trust you, you’re one of my favorite people and I know you’ve got a big heart. But, so does Harry, and he gives too much of it away to people who don’t even care. He’s young…he’s my baby brother y’know? I trust you to be good to him, to treat him right and let him discover things at his own pace. I just really, _really_ , couldn’t stand to see him get his heart broken, so please, Louis…” Gemma says, her eyes getting misty towards the end.

“Gemma, I would…I would _never_ in a million years think of _ever_ hurting Harry. I want to protect him and keep him safe just as much as you do.” He says and she smiles, and hugs him.

“What’s going on…?” Harry asks as he enters the room. Gemma and Louis pull apart quickly.

“Nothing, just having a little chat,” Louis says with a big smile, eyes raking up Harry’s exposed chest. The younger boy has grown fond to wearing his shirts unbuttoned, now especially that he’s lost the majority of his baby fat (except around his hips he just cant seem to get rid of the chub there) and has gained some muscle.

“You folks ready to go?” Johnny asks, wrapping his arm around Gemma’s waist and kissing her temple sweetly. The four of them leave the apartment and walk out into the streets, gazing through the markets and enjoying the sun shining high up in the sky.

They goof around on the street, passing by all of the colorful shops and vendors trying to compliment their way into getting customers. Gemma and Harry are targeted the most, probably has something to do with the way they both have a hard time telling someone no when they’re being so kind and with the voice in the back of their head telling them this is where they get all of their money from. Louis usually has to step in and drag them away before they try to spend money they can’t really afford to spend. They pass a store with hat’s on display outside and Louis grabs a huge church looking hat, with a big bow on it’s side and makes funny faces and does weird poses, making Harry’s sides hurt from laughing so much.

Once they’ve all calmed down a bit, the sun and heat really getting to them, they pass by a cart full of colorful flowers and Harry stops and stares, wanting badly to touch the soft petals, but knows it would only ruin them and make them wilt if touched too much. He’s overwhelmed by the strong floral scent, wishes he could smell it forever, masking out the smog from the city mixed with the hotdogs being sold on nearly every corner. It reminds him of home, his mother’s lavender and rose oils. He makes a mental note to phone her the next time he has spare change.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Johnny asks Harry, standing beside him with a knowing smile.

“Oh, just y’know, admiring the flowers,” Harry says quietly.

“These are pretty neat lookin’, don’t ya think?” Johnny asks, reaching out and tracing his finger along the petals of the dusty pink, purple, cream and blue flowers.

“Those are larkspurs. They are very pretty. They represent a beautiful spirit. They’re toxic though, and short lived. But they are quite beautiful, all flowers are.” Harry says, allowing himself a gentle touch to a violet petal.

“You know a lot about flowers?” Johnny inquires.

“Yeah, I always helped my mother in the garden and she would tell me about the flowers and plants that we were tending to. I got interested and began to read about them, our elderly neighbor also shared the interest in botany and had loads of books and let me borrow them. She had a soft spot for me.” Harry says, voice going soft and distant as he reminisced his life back in the suburbs.

“That sounds lovely, Harry.” Johnny says and brings Harry in for a one-armed hug. Harry giggles and hugs him back.

“Look what I’ve found, H, look at this bouquet, isn’t it pretty?” Louis voice sounds, as he rounds the corner of the cart, the owner rolling his eyes and going back to his newspaper.

“Yes, it is very pretty,” Harry says warily because Louis has a look in his eyes that says he’s up to something.

“Yup. That is why I’m going to buy it,” Louis says and hands the florist a few bills, and waits for his change but his eyes never leaving Harry. Nothing about the situation would seem off to anyone else, but Harry knows Louis, even Gemma’s brows are drawn together.

“Alright, I’m starved let’s go grab a bite and eat in the park it’s just two more blocks down, I believe.” Johnny says once Louis leaves the floral cart and joins them on the corner.

“We’re gonna grab some food and head to central park to enjoy the lovely weather, does that sound alright with you, Louis?” Harry asks.

“Sounds wonderful. Let’s go,” He says and links their arms together, lacing his fingers with Harry’s. The gesture-small but still _there_ sent Harry’s heart racing, but not because Louis was a boy, it was because it was _Louis_ someone who had, until just recently, been someone completely off limits, not even possible. He squeezes Louis’ hand and smiles shyly down at him. And since when did he have to look down on Louis? They’d always been about the same height. But now, Harry’s got at least and inch or two on him. He looked back down at Louis who was now glaring up at him.

“What?”

“Stop growing so much,” Louis mumbles and turns forward without another word. Harry quietly tittered and couldn’t wipe the grin off his face.

They were lucky enough to find a spot to eat without being too close to other city folk and tourists. Louis and Harry share a beef on weck and sip on a cola under the shade of a nearby tree. Gemma and Johnny both eating hot dogs a few feet away from Louis and Harry.

“I love when you do that,” Harry says, voice deep and rumbly. His head is rested in Louis lap, eyes closed against the sun, Louis fingers combing through his knotted curls.

“What, having your hair played with?”

“Yeah, could fall ‘sleep…” Harry says, already half-way to unconsciousness. Louis chuckles and continues scratching Harrys scalp and twirling his curls around his fingers. He knows the moment Harry falls asleep when his jaw drops, mouth slightly open and his breaths are deep and slow. He catches a glimpse of the bouquet lying next to him and plucks a light, dusty pink peony from the bouquet and places it above Harry’s left ear, and twists and braids the locks to make the flower stay in it’s place. It looks nice, so, Louis continues. They bouquet was meant to be given to Harry, but this is still the same concept, is it not? So, Louis plucks a few yellow and white daffodils and braids them in random places about Harry’s hair-he has a lot of it. He plucks one last rose and braids the stem in, knotting curls around it and brushing them back flatly so they don’t stick out in disarray. Satisfied with his work, he decides to wake the sleeping beauty beneath him.

“Wake up…” He sings quietly in Harry’s ear, rubbing the boy’s chest, tracing his fingers down his cheek bones, over his eyelids and lips and bopping him on the nose as well.

“Mmm…” Harry grumbles, opening his eyes and closing them just as fast. He brings his hand up to shields his eyes from the sun and tilts his head back to look at Louis but his view is obstructed by something. A flower? “What…” He says, bringing his hand up to feel his head and is met with velvety smooth petals. “What’s this?” He inquires as he brings himself up to his knees and rests back on his heels.

Louis smiles, pleased with his work and shrugs. “Got bored, you fell asleep on me. So. They look lovely, in case you were wondering. I feel like it’s as if you were born to have flowers in your hair, proper hippie child and all. Those people at that magazine you’ll be working at will absolutely adore you.” Louis says and Harry’s cheeks turn the same pink as the peony tucked behind his left ear. He is so beautiful. Louis kisses him, deeply.

“It looks nice?” He still asks, bashfully and looking up at Louis form under his lashes.

“Beautiful,” Louis says quietly, squeezing Harry’s hand. “Gems! You got a mirror?” Louis shouts and stands up, leaving Harry alone. He comes back quickly, compact mirror in hand and opens it up for Harry. Harry stares at the reflection. He’s never thought himself as ugly, he knew he was alright looking and that he had nice hair, because that’s what he’d been told all his life. But the boy in this reflection wasn’t who Harry thought he was. This boy was happy, free-spirited and passionate, his eyes were bright and smiling, his lips were a beautiful shade of freshly-kissed red, his cheeks pink, everything about him complimented the flowers braided into his hair. He really was beautiful, even though sometimes-most times-he never believe it, right now, in this moment, he truly did. They way Louis smiled at him, they way he squeezed his hands before leaning in to kiss him, they _way_ Louis kissed him, all deep and slow and meaningful, _that _made Harry feel beautiful.__


	7. VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is about the same length as the previous chapters but I feel like it's way shorter. It's probably because it's nothing too exciting and is basically a filler chapter.

It’s Harry’s first day at “The Office”, as Nick refers to it. It’s just an apartment filled with people, hardly any room to move around, papers everywhere, phones ringing off the walls and it smells strongly of patchouli and woody incense.

“So yeah, most everybody is very welcoming and kind and willing to help. If I were you I’d watch out for Ray, watch what you say around him he has a bit of an anger issue. But, other than that it’s pretty chill.” Nick explains to Harry as he shows him around the crowded apartment-turned-office-space.

“You see, Harry, the mainstream media ignores what is really happening in Vietnam and in United States politics in general. We’re not the first published underground press, but we are the first on this side of the city. We are here to educate those who want to learn about marches, protests and rallies, or want to read about rock and underground music-which is where you’ll be working with Niall-and also those who want to get the youth perspective on pop culture and hear the truth about what the government is keeping from us. We’re opening eyes to anti-war activism, too, that’s mine along with Ezra and Tommy’s area. We run the magazine and see everything before it’s published, we organize the rallies and marches.” Nick continues. He’s brought him to a corner with a table that has two typewriters and two telephones sat on top of it and papers and pens and empty coffee mugs scattered about.

“This is yours and Niall’s space, this little corner. It’s crowded, but we have a sort of system that you should pick up on easily.” He says, clapping a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Ready to get started?” Nick asks with a big grin. Harry nods eagerly and sits down in the chair Nick gestures to. Niall walks in then, bidding a good morning to the both of them. Nick leaves, then, goes off to talk to some girl with crazy red hair.

“So, since it’s your first week, you’ll just be helping me out a bit, I’ll show you the works and whatnot. Usually I just go to gigs and write reviews on the bands and sometimes one-on-one interviews-if we’re lucky. It sounds fun but it can get tiring and it’s hard to write a review on a band that blows, y’know? You seem good with your words though, seem like you can let ‘em down easy,” Niall comments with a laugh, Harry smiles and waits for him to continue. “Er, if you want you can proof read these articles, check for any mistakes. Then, later, we’re heading to a small club, Lumiére, to hear some chick, I’ve heard a few people talking about her and it’s not everyday you hear about a chick trying to break it in the underground rock world.” Niall explains, handing Harry a stack of papers and a pen as he speaks.

“So, like, this magazine covers a broad variety of things, and not just the anti-war stuff, specifically then?” Harry questions, just trying to start up conversation.

“Oh, yeah, loads of things. But the protesting and shit is all the big idea. All the other sections like ours are just to get us more customers. Business shit, it’s Nick’s specialty or something.” Niall says and sits behind his type writer and begins clicking away. Harry reads over the article in front of him. Niall is very good at writing, he’s very enthusiastic and emphatic, he makes it short and to the point while Harry’s style is more flowery and poetic.

He proof reads the article, only a few mistakes, and chats easily with Niall. They bond over their love of music and Niall tells Harry that his best friend, who is gay, is fighting in the war, and how he worries about him, and thinks he’s doing something helpful by being apart of this magazine and also apart of the youth that is trying to change and better the future for other generations.

Harry decides that he likes Niall, likes how he thinks and views things. He’s not aggressive with his passion or opinions, he’s very open and kind. They talk all the way to the club where they’re going to see a girl, named Rhiannon. Harry’s excited, Niall tells him he reminds him of a puppy, tail wagging excitedly and tongue hanging out.

The inside of the club is nothing out of the ordinary, it’s dark, there are flickering signs advertising the alcohol provided hung above the bar, and it’s smoky and smells of cigarettes, stale beer and sweat. Harry looks around for a table while Niall goes to the bar to get drinks. It’s about ten minutes later that Niall finally finds him, two pitchers in one hand, two pints in the other.

“It’s better than having to keep constantly getting up, service is terribly slow here.” Niall explains when Harry raises his brow questioningly at him when he approaches the table. Harry just shrugs and sips his beer. It’s watered down, but he doesn't really mind, he isn’t planning on getting plastered, he needs to be in some sort of coherent state of mind to write up a decent review.

Harry is a bit buzzed, just barely enough to feel giddy and anxious to hear this girl sing. Niall’s told him what he’s heard of her and a few people close by have also put in their two-cents. The loud club music finally goes out and lights are centered on the stage. Three boys walk out, one carrying a guitar, another carrying a bass guitar and the third taking his place behind the drumset. They tune and test their instruments and finally the girl, Rhiannon, walks out onto the stage. A small cheer erupts from the small and packed crowd. She smiles, steps over the various cords lying about and taps the mic, the sound echoing throughout the room. She looks back to the drummer and turns back to the crowd and breaks into song, no introductions, right to the music.

She’s good, like _really_ good. This may be a trying time of great social change, but still, you don’t hear or see many girls trying to break it in the rock genre. Harry has faith in her, she’s tiny but she put on a big show. Harry has four pages filled top to bottom of metaphors and sappy lyrical reviews on her voice, sound, and stage presence. He doesn’t talk to Niall much during her show, and surprisingly, Niall doesn’t say much either. Her set ends, and she exits the stage and goes straight to the bar.

“So, do we like, go up to her?” Harry asks.

“You see how many people are crowding her already, asking for an interview? We don’t wanna be like them. So. We wait for the crowd to disperse, let her have a drink or two and then we go up to her. It’s sort of like picking up a girl, you flirt a little, touch a little, offer a drink, that kind of stuff.” Niall explains.

“You don’t sleep with them do you?” Harry asks, eyes wide and innocent. Niall chuckles and takes a large drag from his beer.

“Depends. I don’t intentionally chat them up and sleep with them just to answer a few questions for a tiny article in an underground ‘zine. But, if they’re attractive and the attraction is mutual, I don’t see any harm. It’s not like it’s a big scandal, they’re just small-gig nobodies now, trying to climb the ladder to success. The few that get lucky will just be one-hit-wonders, and even fewer will actually be big names and sell out arenas and shit. It’s just fun, is all.” He rambles. He’s clearly a bit tipsy, his cheeks flushed and his grin never fading. Harry laughs at him and looks over his scribbled notes, adding and fixing a few things, already thinking of how to write it up and make it flow together. Niall nudges his side a while later.

“It’s time, young one,” He says and Harry pinches his arm. “Ow! What was that for?”

“You’re barely older than me, a few months at most,” Harry pouts and Niall rolls his eyes.

“Alright, go over there and ask her some questions, make it interesting none of that _who’s your inspiration_ shit, okay?” Harry nods and squares his shoulders before walking towards the girl. She’s sat at a booth in the far back, talking among the band and sucking on a cold beer.

“Excuse me,” Harry says in his best husky voice. Rhiannon turns towards him, tight smile on her lips. She’s annoyed, looks prepared to spit out well rehearsed answers towards typical questions. Harry doesn’t want that, he can feel Niall’s eyes on him, doesn't want to dick this up because it's his first time, and he doesn’t like the way Rhiannon is looking at him, or the way her band is, especially the drummer who’s hands have tightened into fists on his thighs. Harry swallows, before speaking again. “Sorry to interrupt I don’t mean to be rude…my name is Harry, and your lyrics, they were so deep and meaningful and they spoke to me on a personal level, I was hoping I could borrow a few minutes of your time to pick your brain?” He says, eyes wide and bites his lip. She studies him for a moment, eyes dragging from his boots to his hair, before meeting his vibrant green ones.

“Well aren’t you a doll? Of course you can pick my brain, I don’t mind. Boys,” She says and makes a show of crossing her legs. The three men leave them, headings towards the bar. “So, _Harry_ , what would you like to know? What made me want to go into music? My inspirations, role models? If I would suck your cock-” Harry chokes and immediately cuts her off.

“Oh my-no! No, that’s not…that’s not what I wanted to know at all!” He says, exasperated and cheeks flaming. She stares at him incredulously, eyebrow raised in an amused way. “I’m gay.” He says.

“Oh. Okay, that’s good because I really didn’t feel like having to tell another guy telling me my music is good just to sleep with me to fuck off.” She says, and her shoulders visibly relax.

“Er, right. So, I really did want to talk to you about, like, your music and…stuff.”

“And stuff? Right,” she chuckles and takes a sip of her drink, “alright, let’s hear it then.”

Harry talks with her for awhile, and somehow the conversation turns from her music to her in general and she’s nice, reminds him a lot of Louis with how quick her wit is, she’s extremely sarcastic and doesn’t have a problem setting you in your place. “It’s a shame you’re gay, I thought we hit it off pretty well! We’d make one hell of a couple, writing songs to get us famous in no time. Your boy is a very lucky boy,” She says and doesn’t mean it in a harmful way. Harry preens under her compliments though, ducks his head and quietly thanks her. “No problem, Harry. Say, we should hang more. I’m playing here again Thursday, you should come. I’d love to hang out with someone other than those three party-poolers over there,” She says, gesturing to the three band members who haven’t taken their eyes off of them the whole time. “The drummer, he’s my brother. Extremely over protective, you see how it’s hard for me to have fun with him always glaring holes into the back of every boy that tries to talk to me’s head,” She says and Harry chuckles, because, yeah, Gemma was the same way with girls until Harry turned sixteen (he figures that’s when she realized he was gay-way before Harry even realized it himself).

“I know the feeling, I’ve an older sister,” He says and she smiles.

“So, you’ll be here Thursday night, Harry Styles?” She asks, finishing her drink and standing up from the stool.

“Yeah, I’ll be here. I’ll bring some friends, too. Thank you for letting me talk with you, really, I deeply appreciate it.” He thanks her, ignoring her hand stuck out for a handshake and going in for a hug. It seemed the better thing to do, since this hadn’t felt like it was a business thing.

“No problem, I enjoyed it myself, too! Good luck with your first music review. See you around!” She says before disappearing into the crowd. Niall’s eyes are wide, mouth hanging open, when Harry nears him.

“The fuck, I thought you fucked off and went back with her or some shit!”

“Oh, please, you’re being dramatic. We just hit it off really well on a friendly level. She’s chill as shit. And yes, before you nag me about it, I got some shit for the article. Interesting shit, like you said,” Harry says with a sigh and roll of his eyes. Niall hugs him, spilling his beer on the back of Harry’s shirt.

“Oops, sorry ‘bout that.” Niall says, patting it as if it’ll dry it quicker.

\+ 

Harry gets to the apartment late, it’s dark and quiet, everyone is asleep. Harry’s heart flutters when he sees Louis curled up in his bed, covers pooled around his ankles, clutching one of the many pillows strewn about Harry’s mattress to his chest. He probably smells like stale beer and definitely sweat because the humid mid-summer air outside is anything but cool and refreshing, but, he doesn’t care. He chucks his journal filled with doodles and now his first official concert review to the side, and peels off his sticky and beer-stained shirt, kicks off his shoes and stumbles out of his pants before he crawls into bed next to Louis, kissing his shoulder and curling into his arms. He may be taller and more broad than Louis, but he loves making himself small for Louis to wrap his arms around, to cuddle him from behind and hold him close. He releases a deep breath, all the muscles in his body letting go and relaxing as he slowly slips into unconsciousness, Louis subconsciously squeezes him tighter and draws him closer to his warm bare chest as Harry's eyes finally close.


	8. VIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey sorry guys but I won't be updating the next chapter tonight as I've had some personal and family issues. But don't worry it will be up soon, very soon! Thank you! X

_“…The room was filled with psychedelic sounds, heavy bass and groovy guitar. Rhiannon’s voice flowed through the venue, giving everyone chills with her sultry and emotive tone and her dark words about sex, drugs and the problems and change in today’s society. She put on a hell of a show, strong voice, with shapely melodies, thought-provoking and original lyrics. The musical accompaniments were very balanced and engaging, keeping up with the crowd and setting the mood right every time. Nuclear Hate put on a very exciting and riveting performance, treating the whole thing with charm and sharp wit. The group demonstrated that they have what it takes to make it big in the music industry.”_

“Harry! That was great! I want to hang this up somewhere, take your picture with it, show it off to everyone I know! My baby brother has a published article!” Gemma exclaims wide a huge grin and watery eyes. Harry ducks his head, cheeks having been stained bright red as soon as Louis walked in the door, waving the magazine up in the air and opened his mouth to read the review. All three of them, Louis, Johnny and Gemma crowd Harry into a corner, all hugging him from different sides and squeezing him tight. Harry struggles to push them off, especially Louis who is tickling his neck with kisses, making Harry giggle like a child.

“Alright! Alright, mercy, please! Mercy!” Harry shouts and they all relent and give him his space. He’s still smiling wide, so wide his cheeks hurt.

“Congratulations kid, you’ve made something of yourself. I’ll get Zayn to paint a cool frame for this so we can hang it up.” Johnny says, giving Harry a clap on the shoulder and a kiss on his temple.

“I got ten copies. We could give some to Zayn and them, yeah?” Louis asks and how can Harry say no when Louis’ eyes are filled with such hope and pride and glee?

“Yeah, that’ll be nice. I, uh…I think I wanna send one to, y’know. Mom.” Harry says and the room goes quiet, Louis’ smile falters when Harry’s tone changes.

“She’ll love it, she’ll be so proud. I know it, she’s always loved you more you brat,” Gemma jokes, lightening up the mood and messing up Harry’s curls.

“That is true, I was always the favorite child.” Harry says with his best charming smile. Everyone rolls their eyes at him. Johnny decides that they should all go out and celebrate (even though they already celebrated the night after Harry typed up the final draft last Thursday, when they went out with Nuclear Hate and partied all night long, even brought it back to the apartment. the majority of the night is lost to Harry.). Gemma and Johnny leave early to stop by Zayn’s to get them to tag along and give them their copies as well.

“I’m very proud of you, you know,” Louis tells Harry while he runs his fingers through his curls. Harry hums, leaning into Louis’ hands. “You know it’s a hootenanny night at Cafe Wha?, don’t you?” Louis says, voice smooth and nonchalant.

“What do you mean?”

“On hootenanny nights they let anyone go up and perform a song or two, just for shits and giggles,” Louis explains.

“Sounds fun. Have you ever gone up there?”

Louis chuckles, his laughter enough to shake Harry’s pliant body. “No, I haven’t. But you should. You’ve a lovely voice, and Liam’s mate plays guitar. I’m sure you two know at least one of the same songs.” Louis says and Harry sits up, and turns around to face him.

“What are you playing at, Lou?”

“Nothing, s’just…you always talked about how much you love to sing and being a musician was always a dream of yours-”

“Exactly, it was _just_ a dream, a silly little childhood dream. Every boy wanted to be a musician when he was younger, Louis. Besides, I’ve got like a real job now, I have to focus on that and not a silly little hobby.” Harry says, getting up and heading towards the shower to wash off the grime and dirt from his skin and hair. He hears Louis sigh but doesn’t say anything else which Harry is thankful for. He doesn’t want to fight with Louis, especially over something as little and unimportant as this. He strips himself naked and stands under the warm water, lets it cascade down his body, trickle over his barely-there abs and pool over his jutting hipbones. The curtain is pulled back seconds later, a naked Louis stepping in and crowding up behind him. He wraps his arms around Harry’s waist, resting his cheek between Harry’s shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry,” Louis says, kissing Harry’s skin and tightening his arms.

“’S’alright, I’m just a little wound up, y’know?”

“How so?”

“You heard about that raid at that one club, right? How they arrested crossdressers and homosexuals and it was really violent and a lot of people got hurt? Well, one of the people arrested was a guy that worked at the magazine. I didn’t know him all that well, but, it just kinda opened my eyes, y’know? Made me realize we’re not at all as safe and invincible as we like to think we are.” Harry says quietly, not meeting Louis’ eyes, just placing his hands over Louis’ on his abdomen.

“Love, you’ve nothing to worry about, yeah? We’ll be fine, nothing like that would ever happen to us. We’re not wild and crazy, we don’t draw attention to ourselves. We’ll be fine,” Louis reassures, he tries his best to hold back the slight fear in his voice, because he knows it’s not true, that they _are_ at risk of being arrested or beaten because of who they are. It’s life, it sucks, yeah, but you get over it. As long as you play it safe and don’t flaunt it around to the wrong people you’ll be ok. Louis is worried for Harry though, doesn’t want him to have to dim his light and hide who he is. They wash each other, scrubbing each other’s scalps and soaping up their bodies.

“Nick wants to organize a protest. Well, he already has. And he wants me to go.” He feels Louis tense up behind him. Harry closes his eyes, waiting for what he knows is coming.

“And you’re going,” Louis says, it’s not a question though.

“Yes, I said I would. Listen, Louis, it’ll be fine, safe. It’s a peaceful protest, we’re just going to march down the street where it happened, holding signs and chanting and stuff, no violence. I promise.”

“Well, you’ve already made your decision so I guess I don’t have much say in this. Just…don’t be stupid, yeah? Nick and his crew can get a little crazy and I don’t want you getting in trouble.” Louis says, rinsing the suds from both his and Harry’s hair. Harry turns and smiles down at Louis.

“You can trust me to be safe and sensible, Lou.” Harry says and kisses him sweetly before shutting off the water and grabbing their towels from the rack. They dry off and put on clean clothes.

“I think I’m going to call my mom,” Harry says, his voice a little distant. Louis nods, leaves him to be alone while he phones home. Harry sits by the phone hung on the wall for a minute, gathering his thoughts and rings his old home. He prays that his mother picks up, and not Robin, which, he shouldn’t because it’s a Saturday night and he usually plays poker at Jerry’s house on Saturday’s.

“Twist residence, this is Anne,” His mother tones out automatically. Harry’s body relaxes on a large exhale.

“Hi mom, it’s Harry,” he says.

“Oh baby, how are you?” She says and sounds close to tears. Harry feels bad, it’s been too long since he phoned home, he’s missed his mother’s voice.

“I’m good, yeah er, and you? How’ve you been?”

“I’m doing well. It’s quiet around here, without you, honey. I miss you and Gemma terribly so. You two are alright, yeah? Staying out of trouble?” She jokes with a watery laugh.

“Yeah, we keep each other grounded. So does Louis,” He adds, trying to sound indifferent, incase his mother somehow forgot the main reason for his leaving. She hums and laughs lightly.

“That’s good. I’m glad to hear you’ve found someone to keep you busy, darling.” Harry’s heart lightens with her acceptance.

"Yeah, he's nice. Um, so I got like a job? I work for this small magazine and help the guy who runs the music section. I mostly just proof-read his articles and help him write stuff, but I also go see people perform at little clubs here and then write reviews about their performances. And, like, my first day I wrote a review and it got published in the magazine and came out today." Harry tells her.

"Oh, darling! That's wonderful! I'm so proud of you! You were always such a smart boy, I knew you would do great things. That's very exciting," She gushes and Harry bites his lip, holding back his huge dorky smile at his mother's praise. They talk for a little bit longer, Harry not wanting to up the electricity too much or keep his mother from doing anything. He tells her he loves and misses her before letting her go. He finds Louis is his room, it’s really become _their_ room lately what with how Louis spends every night in Harry’s bed now-a-days. They ought to look into renting the room out to someone, help them with bills and whatnot.

“How’s Anne?” Louis asks when Harry leans against the door frame to his room.

“Good, good. Said to tell you hello. Did you smoke up?” Harry asks, because the scent is overwhelming, inescapable.

“Yeah, needed to unwind a bit. You want some?” Louis asks, just as he does overtime he gets high, always offers Harry some, even though he always denies any. At least he doesn’t pick on Harry for denying it, and for not having done any drugs at all, like how kids back in the suburbs would.

“No thank you, we should get going though.” He says and Louis nods, finishing off the roach before putting it out in the beer bottle next to Harry’s bed, along with other joints and cigarette butts. Louis grabs his wallet and the two head out the door and to the club. Everyone, even the handful of friends he managed to make working for the magazine were there. Johnny had apparently planned this, went to the office to ask them all to come. Even Rhiannon and her band came, her brother, who Harry learned was Andy, was chill towards Harry once he found out Harry was gay and wasn’t looking to get in his sister’s pants. Harry loves Johnny, is glad that Gemma is with someone like him, someone who isn’t a selfish asshole like her old boyfriends used to be. Johnny is thoughtful and wise and is high a majority of the time but he’s held a few deep conversations with Harry during those times, helped Harry through some internal struggles when he first came to the city. He’s a good guy and takes care of Gemma.

They all get happy drunk, celebrating loudly with a lot of watered-down drinks and loud live music. Harry is happy, forgets about what happened not too long ago at another club and focuses on Louis most of the night, focuses on kissing Louis, dancing with Louis, and how Louis tastes like marijuana and vodka and Harry wants it, wants him so bad.

“Want you, Lou, want you so bad,” Harry breathes into his mouth, bodies pressed close, moving together with the music. He doesn’t know what he wants but he wants more, wants to be closer to Louis. He’s probably, definitely too drunk to think straight.

“Whattya want baby?” Louis asks.

“Dunno, just…you…kiss me?” Harry asks and Louis chuckles and obliges, kissing Harry deeply and fervidly. Harry whines, pulling Louis’ hair tightly and bringing their bodies even closer, grinding his groin into Louis’.

“Louis, wanna smoke up,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…” Harry breathes. Louis pulls away from Harry’s lips, holds his face in his hands, looking into his eyes.

“You’re sure you wanna try it?”

“Yes, I’m sure, c’mon, Lou,” Harry whines, grinding against him once more. Louis swears under his breath and drags Harry to a darker corner, away from the tight crowd and pulls a slightly crumpled joint and a packet of matches from his jean pocket. Harry watches in amazement as Louis brings the joint to his lips and swiftly lights the match, inhaling as he lights the joint. He takes a deep breath and holds it, then beckons Harry to come closer, grabs his face and brings Harry’s plush lips to his, and exhales the bitter smoke into Harry’s mouth. Harry inhales on instinct, and pulls back almost instantly, coughing a little. Louis takes another hit, keeping the smoke inside for a while before he exhales. Harry watches him as he does so, half-hard cock twitching in his pants. He whines when Louis brings the joint to his lips once more and catches him off guard with another open mouthed kiss as Louis exhales.

“You like it baby?” Louis says against Harry’s lips.

“Tastes awful,” Harry comments and it makes Louis laugh, which makes Harry laugh. His body feels heavy, eyes half closed and he can feel the music in his veins, vibrating his bones. He looks to Louis, who’s eyes are almost closed and sports a big dopey grin.

“You feel it?”

“Dunno…prolly…can you kiss me some more?” Harry asks, voice slow and syrupy. He takes a step towards Louis, grabs onto his hip and brings him in close, crashing their lips together. They dance again, and Harry drinks more, everyone buying him drinks as congratulations to the published article of his concert review. He gets so drunk he can’t even hold himself up, relying on Louis to keep him in check.

“So proud of our little Harry!” Gemma shouts, her hair is sticking to her forehead and neck from sweat and Johnny lost his shirt a while back. “To my baby brother for being the smarter Styles kid even though I was the one who went to college,” She jokes and kisses Harry’s cheek before they all throw back a shot. Harry takes it like a pro, ignores the burn and the urge to spit it up. He smiles happily at the group in front of him, all of his new friends. They don’t stay for much longer, because Harry is painfully hard after only a few songs of grinding against Louis with alcohol running through his veins and the pot clouding up his mind. Louis is in no better shape, Harry can feel how hard he is through both layers of fabric between them. Harry may be too high and entirely too drunk to really care, but Louis doesn’t really feel up to getting off on by grinding against each other in a crowded place. He’d rather do it in the privacy of their apartment, the dark of Harry’s room. So, he takes Harry’s hand and drags him outside.

“Lou, what’re you doin’?” Harry slurs, trying to best not to trip and fall, but he stumbles anyways, even with Louis supporting half of his weight.

The burst through the door of the apartment and fall onto Harry’s bed, frantic kisses, frantic breathing and sloppy misjudged movements. Harry struggles getting Louis jeans off, and they finally part to rid of the rough denim. Suddenly, Louis is between Harry’s thighs, kissing him deeply, running a hot, rough hand down his bare thighs.

“Lou, _please_ ,” Harry pleads, pushing his hips up against Louis.

“What baby, what do you want me to do?” Louis breathes, then goes for Harry’s neck, sucking and biting at the sweaty and sensitive skin. Harry’s brain goes fuzzy, he’s not able to think right.

“Your mouth,” He blurts out and Louis mouth detaches from his neck and he looks up at Harry.

“You want me to suck you off?” Louis asks and Harry would be embarrassed if it weren’t for the way Louis eyes were mostly black pupils, the tiniest ring of blue on the edges, how his breathing changes from deep breaths to erratic, staccatos breaths. It goes straight to Harry’s cock.

“Please, _yes_ god, your mouth, I want it,” Harry begs, hips jutting up constantly. Louis places a firm hand down, keeping him pinned to the mattress so he doesn’t buck up. Louis kisses Harry and it’s dirty and hot and Harry’s probably going to come before Louis even gets his mouth anywhere near his cock. _Finally_ Louis pulls back and saunters down the length of Harry’s body, down to his underwear, his cockhead nearly peaking out the top. His eyes never leave Harry’s, not even as he slowly drags the underwear from Harry’s hip and tosses them to the side. His hot breath blows over Harry’s bare cock and it twitches and Louis wraps a warm hand around the base, gives it a little squeeze. “So beautiful,” Louis says, looking back up at Harry before he gives the leaking head a kiss, licks his lips and slowly, _so_ slowly sinks down, taking Harry’s cock easily. Harry can’t watch him, it’s too much, he throws his head back and lets out a cry as Louis swallows around him. Louis pinches Harry’s thigh, wants him to watch him as he swallows down Harry’s cock. _Fuck_ , he isn’t going to last long, this is his first time getting his dick sucked, and Louis is _so_ beautiful, with his pretty pink lips stretched tight around Harry’s length, and his blue eyes looking up at Harry all watery and lust-filled.

Louis’ head bobs four more times and Harry warns him, “Louis, m’gonna come,” He whines, and Louis pulls off, sucking on the head, hand working the rest and closes his eyes and hums as Harry’s spunk shoots in his mouth, swallows it down without struggle, keeps sucking him until Harry is whimpering from it being too much, too sensitive. He kisses the head once more before crawling up the bed to Harry and kisses him deeply.

“Let me do you,” Harry says when he feels Louis’s penis brush against his thigh.

“Oh, H, you don’t have to, dick sucking isn’t for everyone and I don’t want you to like get scared-” Harry stops him before he says anything else.

“I can, like, with my hand? Please, Lou…” Harry says and Louis kisses him as an answer and Harry makes a pleased noise before rolling Louis onto his side. “Just, will you help me out?” Harry asks, suddenly getting nervous at the realization at what he’s about to do. It’s not even that serious to most, but everything is a big deal to Harry because he has strong feelings for Louis and wants to make it good for him, wants to please him and make him happy.

“‘Course baby, just do what you do to yourself,” Louis says and well Harry’s only ever jacked off a handful of times, wasn’t really into it. He’d only tried because Dean had mentioned it once. So, his shaky hand glides from Louis’ waist to the elastic of his underwear, he tugs it down enough for Louis’ penis to be freed and stares at him in awe. It’s weird, he’s seen Louis’ naked penis before, but it wasn’t ever hard. It’s kind of… _hot_ that he’s done this to Louis caused this much arousal. He licks his lips and wraps his hand around the base, just as Louis had done earlier, and it twitches and Louis sucks in a breath, eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

“Run your thumb over the head, yeah, like that and smear it down a bit so it isn’t so dry yeah?” Louis tells Harry and he does as told, collecting the precome and smearing it down, making his hand glide easier. He tries out a few things, twisting his wrist when his fist comes up to the head, giving it a little squeeze at the base.

“yeah, Harry, jus’ like that babe, m’close,” Louis says, breath short and staccato. He keeps letting out airy little whines, his eyes fluttering closed, and his sharp little teeth digging into his pink lips. His hips buck up into Harry’s fist and his whole body tenses, and thick white ropes cover Harry’s hand and his cock but Harry keeps stroking him, slower and tighter now and surges forward, catching Louis moans in his mouth and kisses him through it. Louis is so beautiful and as Harry pulls back and looks into Louis eyes, he’s sure he is in love with him.

“You’re so beautiful,” Harry tells him instead, but he thinks Louis knows what he really means, because he smiles and kisses Harry sweetly before hugging him close to his chest and bringing his knees up behind Harry’s and falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey sorry guys but I won't be updating the next chapter tonight as I've had some personal and family issues. But don't worry it will be up soon, very soon! Thank you! X


	9. IX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short, like stupid short. I am so terribly sorry for my month long absence, I really have no excuse for it other than I have zero motivation for anything. But, here is chapter 9 (I really can't get over how short it is, I will definitely to make it up to you all in chapter 10). Enjoy! xoxo

Harry has fallen into a routine, is finally comfortable in his workplace. He’s made quite a few new friends, has spare change in his pocket (which he usually spends on drinks or spoiling Louis somehow) and he’s _happy_. Niall has become one of his favorite people, along with Nick, even though sometimes some of the things he says shocks Harry. He can be very blunt, and doesn’t sugarcoat things most of the time. But, he’s fun to be around and knows how to throw a good party. Charlie, a tall thickly built black man, has taking a liking to Harry, says he reminds him of his little brother who was sent to war. When Harry questioned how he didn’t get called he told him he had heart murmurs. He didn't look excited about it though, his eyes clouded over and sad.

"Well that's lucky of you!" Harry had said, trying to cheer him up. He just smiled sadly down at Harry.

"Yeah, lucky of me, but I would've given anything to be over there fighting instead of my baby brother. He's barely older than you, just a child. He doesn't need to see all the things going on over there, doesn't need to live every day in constant fear of if it will be his last. I hate it. I hate this war." Charlie said and it was the first time Harry had ever seen a grown man cry and the sight brought tears to his own eyes. He didn't say anything, had just silently hugged Charlie and comforted him until his tears were gone and cheeks were dry.

\+ 

Harry is out in the city with Louis, Charlie, Nick and Rhiannon for lunch. Charlie isn’t dressed in drag, he told Harry that he only does it when he goes out to certain clubs. Now, in the city and in the middle of the day, he looks like anybody else, dressed in jeans and a plain shirt. The five of them walk through the constantly crowded streets, stopping at little corner carts and shops, admiring the people selling their treasures and little knick-knacks. Louis gives in at one little shop and buys a necklace for Harry. He had seen the younger boy eyeing the piece of jewelry while Charlie and Rhi goofed around, trying on hats and other accessories in the store. He tucks the necklace in it’s small brown bag in the pocket of his jeans and quickly catches up with the rest. His hand finds Harry’s easily and he leans up and kisses his cheek. Harry stops talking and looks down at Louis, smiling at him and blushing under the public affection. It’s not often that they do this, act all couple-y in public. Harry doesn’t mind, doesn’t really care what people think of his sexuality anymore, but Louis, he cares. Harry wishes he didn’t so much, but he doesn’t mind, as long as he gets to have Louis’ arms wrapped around his body each night.

“Hey, Haz, this album has that song you were tellin’ me about the other night? The one you dedicated to Louis?” Rhiannon says, a slight teasing tone to her voice. Harry’s cheeks flush, knowing exactly what she’s talking about. Louis smirks up at Harry, brow raised in questioning.

“You dedicated a song to me? H, you little hopeless romantic,” Louis teases.

“Not so hopeless now that I’ve got you,” Harry says and giggles when Louis rolls his eyes but doesn’t turn away to hide the pretty pink staining his cheeks.

“Yeah, yeah, enough of that or you’ll make me sick. It better be good, Harry, or else I’m leaving you,” Louis jokes, making his way to Rhiannon. He takes the album from her hands and scans over the list of songs on each side.

“At least it’s from a legendary band from the motherland. Which song of the fab four is fab enough to be dedicated to the wonderful Louis Tomlinson?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Harry says and Louis’ eyes narrow.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Louis asks.

“Well, it was _supposed_ to be a surprise,” Harry starts, glaring at Rhiannon for blowing his secret, “…but, remember how I told you my true passion was singing? And then not too long ago you asked me why I didn’t try to book a time slot for a few songs and I got mad at you? Well, I thought about it and I honestly don’t know what was up with me that day if I haven’t apologized for the way I acted I apologize now it was just a weird time for me with all the changes and stuff. Anyways, I thought about what you said, and Rhiannon also helped me get one foot out the door and…I booked a time slot at _Cafe Wha?_. To sing. And one of the songs is a song that makes me think of you. About us. So, yeah.” Harry says, stuttering through it and blush profusely while staring at his scuffed shoes. He looks up and see’s Louis’ eyes crinkled and bright, smiling so wide all of his sharp teeth on display.

“Really?”

“Really,” Harry breathes and Louis leans in and kisses him sweetly right there in the middle of the bustling city streets. The look in Louis’ eyes when he pulls away is enough to make him not care about the harsh word thrown at them, muttered under a passing man’s breath. Harry’s heard that word so many times since moving to New York that with each time it’s spoken it loses it’s meaning, hurts less and less, because they don’t know how Louis makes Harry feel, so loved and cared for, so proud and confident and all of that overshadows some strangers hate towards what they have.

“When do you sing?”

“Thursday night, same night as Rhiannon and her band. I go on after them.”

“I’ll know the song, right? I’ve heard it before?”

“Yeah, you’ll know it.” Harry says and he’s sure of it. Because the first time he heard it Louis had told him about how much he loved The Beatles and how they sort-of helped inspire him to come to America in the first place. They’ve heard it many times after that, in the club as they drunkenly shouted the lyrics and goofed off by slow-dancing together, they’ve heard it on the turn table (Niall owns the album, and brings it to any and every party his obsession and dedication to the foreign band could rival Louis’) while throwing a small get together in their apartment and making everyone quiet down so they could sing it together and ended up putting on a show, followed by applause and whistling and shouting from their guests as they took a bow and hopped down from the coffee table. Honestly, Harry doesn’t know how Louis hadn’t guessed what song it was immediately. It’s pretty obvious how much it’s _their_ song. Harry just hopes he doesn’t dick it up with the way he plans on singing it.


	10. X

Harry is high and drunk and trying to be sexy for Louis, giving him a little lap dance at their table towards the back left corner of the club, but he feels too lose and has no control over his arms and legs to be sexy. Louis loves it anyways, loves that Harry is comfortable in his skin and doesn’t give a shit about looking like a complete dork on the dance floor. Rhiannon and Niall are sitting across from them, lost in a deep conversation about guitars or something. Rhiannon’s brother, Jamie, sitting next to them looking far from relaxed or happy.

“I bet you Niall and Rhiannon go back together tonight,” Harry says to Louis.

“You think so?”

“Mm-hmm,” Harry says, swiveling his hips and grinding down on Louis’ lap. Louis swears and holds Harry’s hips still. Harry grins down at him devilishly.

“Dunno, Jamie looks pretty upset about the whole thing. He’s worse than Gemma, Jesus,”

“Speaking of, where is she?”

“Her and Johnny went to the toilets a while ago, mate,” Louis said and Harry makes a face, not wanting to picture his sister and her boyfriend.

“Thanks for that, _mate_ ,” Harry says and rolls his eyes, scooting off of Louis’ lap.

“No problem!” Louis chuckles and smacks a big wet kiss to Harry’s cheek. Harry giggles and rests his head on Louis’ shoulder, nuzzling his face into the warmth. Marijuana makes him even more hands-y and clingy than normal. And horny, he’s learned. He never really had any interest in drugs before, because he was never around anyone who did drugs until he moved to the city. He’s only ever tried marijuana and only uses it when he’s with Louis or Niall because he trusts them to keep him out of harms way if anything were to go wrong.

“Lou?”

“Yes, love?”

“M’horny,” Harry slurs, placing his big, warm hand high up on Louis’ thigh, slowly trailing up and cupping Louis’ cock through his pants, “want you in my mouth,” he hums, nipping Louis’ earlobe.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Louis swears, pressing his hips up into Harry’s palm. Harry laughs and continues with little nips down Louis’ jaw and his neck until Louis finally shoves Harry off his lap and shoots up from his seat and grabbing Harry’s hand, dragging him to the toilets and into the lone stall. Harry is giggling and panting, already hard in his own pants just from the thought of Louis in his mouth. His mouth waters at the thought and he quickly drops to his knees, making haste of getting Louis’ pants down to his thighs, just enough to free his cock, he wastes no time, grabbing him at the base and taking him down whole in one movement. Louis shouts, thighs tensing and fingers going straight to Harry’s hair. Harry is sloppy with it, doesn’t care about being clean and clinical. Spit dribbles down his chin and his throat, he let’s himself get lost with it and he’s _loud_ , the noises escaping his mouth surprising not only Louis, but himself, too. He looks up at Louis as he lets his back hit the door behind him, and makes a show of putting his hands behind his back, holding his left wrist tightly in his right hand, hoping, _praying_ , that Louis gets the hint. And he does. His eyes are darker than Harry’s ever seen them, and his breath rushes out, his mouth hanging open in disbelief.

“Jesus, Harry, you’re going to fucking kill me,” Louis says as he slowly glides his cock between Harry’s beautifully wrecked lips, slick with saliva and precome. He goes slow and gentle at first, and Harry whines, actually whines and looks up at Louis, mouth full of cock, eyes pleading and well, that’s it. Louis gives in, starts to literally fuck Harry’s mouth and shit, he isn’t going to last long _at all_. Harry’s eyes never leave his, even as tears pool in them and trail down the sides of his face. He’s so loud and willing to please and takes it so good it makes Louis’ knees weak. He thrusts his cock all the way in, feels himself hitting the back of Harry’s throat, Harry reflexively swallowing around him, trying not to gag and failing, little choking sounds escaping his mouth. Louis tugs Harry’s hair roughly and Harry hums and the vibrations do it for Louis. He pulls back as fast as he can, leaving just the head and then some between Harry’s lips as he comes hard. Harry swallows it easily and greedily, humming and closing his eyes, breaking eye contact for the first time since having Louis’ cock in his mouth.

“My turn,” Louis says dreamily, dragging Harry up by his armpits and shoving his jeans down, letting them pool around his ankles. Harry doesn’t last long at all, comes a minute after Louis gets his mouth on him.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” Harry sighs, head lolling back against the stall door as he tries to level out his breathing and sort his head. Louis chuckles as he tucks Harry back in his jeans and fixes his wild hair, half of the pretty white daisies that were twisted in random little braids were now missing petals, the other half lying on the dirty bathroom floor. He still looks beautiful as ever, all wide innocent eyes and pretty pink mouth, he was such a tease and so gorgeous it amazes Louis that he gets to spend his nights wrapped up with this boy.

The rest of the night goes by in a blur, Harry and Louis both spending too much on watered down drinks while still managing to get black-out drunk. Rhiannon and Niall hit it off, much to Jamie’s dismay, but honestly everyone saw it coming. Harry makes Louis stay up with him all night and talks about random things, and asks Louis a bunch of ‘what if’ and ‘what would you do’ questions. Then, he asks Louis if he’s ever been in love. And he’s so quiet and bashful about the question, and Louis has a little inkling as to why, and it makes his heart stutter. Louis tells him that he thought he was in love once, before he realized he was gay. It was a different type of love though, a friendly-love, a sibling type of love. Harry is quiet after that and claims that he’s tired. Louis isn’t blind, he can read the signals now, knows that Harry has been a little shy lately around Louis and with how much affection he shows. Louis isn’t going to push it though, he knows he said it earlier in a fit of passion and strong feelings of pride for Harry, he also knows Harry head him, but he figures when Harry’s ready he’ll say it. He’d wait a million years if he’d have to.

\+ 

Harry is nervous, and of course, he’s currently hunched over in the back alley throwing up while Niall rubs his back and tries not to get sick himself. He was perfectly fine up until twenty minutes ago when Louis walked in looking beautiful as ever with his hair styled and smiling his crinkly-eyed smile.

“I knew I shouldn’t have eaten before coming here, why did I listen to you?” Harry groaned, straightening up and resting his head against the brick of the building.

“I dunno, coulda sworn I heard from someone that it’s not good to perform on an empty stomach.” Niall shrugs and Harry rolls his eyes at him. “C’mon, just drink some water you’ll be fine. You’ll do great.”

“But Louis will be watching-”

“Louis’ heard you sing plenty of times, what’s the deal?”

“I know that, it’s just…this time it’s like, serious. It’s a real thing, it’s not just goofing off. And, like…he knows that I’ve a song dedicated to him and I’m going to be telling him, through song, that I love him. What if he like, gets scared? And like leaves me because he doesn’t want something serious? Oh my god, Niall-”

“Right, first of all, calm down or else you’re gonna make yourself sick again. Second, Louis doesn’t seem the type to drop everything and run, he’s sweet and gentle with you. He cares, a lot. I’m not big on these kind of heart-to-heart speeches but there’s definitely something about the way he looks and smiles at you. He’s in it for the long haul, I can tell you that much for sure. Now, you’ve got fifteen minutes until you’re up on stage and I’ll be right there with you strumming away. Yo won’t be _entirely_ alone. Go kiss your man-but first, rinse your mouth!” Niall says and Harry chuckles, following him back into the club, only after drinking the water Niall offered and swishing it around his mouth before spitting it out. He does this three times. Louis is sitting with everyone else, eyes meeting Harry’s immediately with a worried and questioning look. Harry smiles and sits down next to him and kisses him.

“You alright?” Louis asks and Harry nods, taking his hand and intertwining their fingers, and resting his head on Louis’ shoulder. They listen to the rest of Nuclear Hate’s set, cheering loudly as they come back on for one last song. Niall nudges Harry’s foot under the table and Harry knows it’s time to go. He’s stomach knots up again, and he doesnt’ even realize how tightly he’s gripping Louis hand until Louis brings their hands up to his lips and kisses Harry’s knuckles.

“You’ll do great, kitten, don’t worry,” Louis says sweetly. Harry nods and kisses him longingly before following Niall to get set up. Harry closes his eyes and nervously pets the petals twisted artfully into his hair thanks to Gemma.

“Quit fidgeting, it’s time,” Niall says and smacks Harry’s bum when the lights go out. Harry slowly and cautiously steps up onto the makeshift stage, hears Niall strum out a few chords on his guitar while he sets up his microphone and gets it to a comfortable height. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath and when he opens his eyes, the lights come back on and…this is it. His first time performing in front of a crowd. His first time performing and getting paid to do so. Here goes nothing. 

“Hi, er, my names Harry Styles, this charming young man to my left is Niall and will be accompanying me on the guitar. He’s a great guy, very talented.” Harry starts off, and laughs nervously before coughing into his fist. He can’t see much past the lights that shine in his eyes, but he can hear a few people talking and laughing. “Right, this first song is _Ruby Tuesday_ , thank you,” He says and looks over to Niall who winks at him and Harry starts to sing as Niall strums away. Harry keeps his eyes low, staring at the floor below his feet, over the crowd, not ready to make any sort of eye contact just yet. His confidence grew, soaring through the roof when the song ended and the sounds of screaming and cheering and whistling filled his ears. His cheeks burned red and he looked to Niall who was grinning hugely back at him. Harry then, finally, looked into the crowd and scanned the faces until he found those familiar blue eyes. Louis was standing on the seat of the booth, hands held above his head clapping together as he yelled. Harry’s grin was so wide he feared his cheeks would tear to his ears. He wouldn’t mind though, because the proud look in Louis’ eyes, the adoration and fondness sent Harry’s heart to the moon, past all the clouds and the stars in the sky.

They played two more songs, a track from The Grateful Dead and The Who before Harry’s nerves return. His smile is still present, just as big and bashful after the reactions. He coughs nervously and looks to Niall again for support. Niall nods at him, mindlessly strumming chords while Harry collects himself. He takes a deep breath and looks back into the crowd, looking for Louis.

“This next song will be the last song, it’s a special one to me, and I’ve changed up the tempo, just slowed it down a bit which I hope you all don’t mind. It’s a familiar one so if you know it, please, song along! Anyways, I’d like to dedicate this special song to a special someone. You know who you are,” Harry says and winks, at Louis who bites his lip and cheers loudly. Niall begins to play and Harry closes his eyes as he begins to sing.

_“There’s nothing you can do that can’t be done,_ _Nothing you can sing that can’t be sung_ ,” Harry croons, slowly swaying with eyes closed. He puts his all into this song, every emotion he displays, puts into his singing and looks into Louis’ eyes as he sings the chorus, sees Louis singing along happily, he see’s Gemma who is smirking at him knowingly and gives him a cheeky wink. Harry has never felt so _good_ , so happy doing something. The response from the crowd is wonderful and he feels high off of it, they’re singing the back vocals, chanting _”love is all you need,”_.

Harry can’t help but laugh when Johnny stands up on the table and shouts, “HE LOVES YOU YEAH, YEAH, YEAH! HE LOVES YOU YEAH, YEAH, YEAH!” Harry finishes the song, let’s the last note end just as strong as it began and the crowd erupts into cheers. When he steps down from the stage, Gemma’s the first to make it to him, her arm wrapped around Harry and patting his back. She’s shouting something at him but Harry doesn’t hear, doesn’t hear or see anything except _Louis_ who is making his way to him, with a big, huge dopey smile and cheeks the color of the flowers in Harry’s hair. Harry’s face splits into a grin as he closes the last couple of feet between he and Louis and Louis wraps him up in a tight hug, peppering his face with kisses. The crowd cheers louder and catcalls are made, whistles ringing in their ears.

“You little shit! Fuck, you were so amazing, Harry!” Louis says and Harry is laughing because this is a good reaction, this is much better than what Harry had spent all night worrying about, spent the thirty minutes before his performance getting sick in an alley way. He had nothing to worry about and he subconsciously knew that, but he’s always been a worrier, he couldn’t help it. But Louis is here, right in front of him, face full of pride and eyes so bright and happy. 

“You liked it?” Harry asks and he doesn’t have to be specific as to what he’s asking. Louis pulls back and holds Harry’s face between his hands, smiling brightly all teeth and slits for eyes.

“Of _course_ I liked it, I _loved_ it! I love _you_ ,” Louis says and kisses Harry. Harry kisses back instantly, hands all over. When they part Harry is breathless and half hard and so punch-drunk in love he’s giddy with it. His stomach is flipping and his heart is rabbiting against his rib cage because there it was, those three words. Harry pulls back and looks into Louis’ eyes and kisses him, deep and hot and lovingly because _god_ , Louis just said he loves him!

“You too, Louis, I love you, too…think I have for a while now,” Harry says when he pulls back from Louis, he kisses the corner of his mouth and takes Louis’ hands in his and they go back to the booth.

“Alright, I’m feeling generous, round of shots on me!” Rhiannon shouts and everyone cheers. She runs to the bar and when she returns, she hands out the shots to everyone. Gemma stands up on the booth. “Let’s have a toast!” She declares, holding up her shot glass. “To love!” She shouts and everyone raises their drinks and shouts back “To love!” before throwing back their shots in unison.

+ 

 

Harry has been busy the past couple of days, staying late at The Office to help Nick organize an upcoming protest. Harry has only gotten to go to two other gigs because of Nick requesting specifically Harry’s help. Harry doesn’t understand why Nick wants him, because he doesn’t know much about protests and how they work, he’s only every walked in them, he’s never led one before. Apparently there’s more to it than you’d think. He apologizes to Niall when he tells him he can’t help him with the next few reviews but Niall, optimistic as always just brushes it off as no big deal and goes on his merry way.

“It’s going to be another late one boys, sorry but tomorrow is the big day and we’ve got to make sure everything goes as planned.” Nick says to the group of men sitting at the table in the middle of The Office. Nick goes on about how he wants this to be a peaceful protest, and how he’s got the flowers all set up and stored safely and how he has certain connections coming to help and make the protest bigger and better. They stay up all night going over plans and by the time Harry makes it home everyone is asleep and he falls right into bed next to Louis, with his shoes still on his feet.

 

The next morning, Harry wakes up and skips out on breakfast, running late as he was supposed to meet the company fifteen minutes ago. He runs down the blocks, apologizing to a middle aged woman when he accidentally bumps into her, but doesn’t stop, he keeps on trucking.

 

“Well, it’s about fucking time, kid,” Ray says, kicking his foot off the wall of the building he was leaning against. Harry ignores his comment and turns to Nick.

“Sorry, woke up late…” Harry says, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at his feet.

“I’ll let it slide this time,” Nick says with narrow eyes, followed up by a wink. He claps Harry on the shoulder and turns towards the crowd.

It starts off nice, and organized, the policemen that line the streets don’t seem threatening but Harry is still wary, because them being there makes him feel tense and not-so-peaceful. He’s walking with Charlie, they’re chanting along with the crowd and Harry is admiring the large puppets people are carrying ahead of him, they stand at least three times his height and they’re all dressed in white, with their hands folded in front of their chests and eyes closed peacefully. Everything seems to be going well, until Harry hears shouts and then someone is falling into him, knocking him into Charlie who, luckily catches Harry before he can fall and hit his head on the road. After that, all hell breaks loose. Harry doesn’t know what started it, but people are running everywhere now, screaming and shouting and things are being thrown. Harry is scared.

“Charlie, what’s going on?” He shouts over the noise and Charlie shakes his head, eyes wide and darting around. People keep knocking into them, and a rock hits Harry’s head, right above his eye and he stumbles back into a police officer. Suddenly Harry is being lifted up off the ground and being thrown down into it, his shoulder blades hitting the pavement harshly, the wind getting knocked out of him and leaving him disoriented. He tries to get up, to find Charlie but he’s shoved back down, the back of his head whacking the pavement.

“Stay down! I said stay down!” The officer shouts at Harry, he turns him over so his face is being roughly shoved into the concrete, dirt and tiny rocks getting into his fresh gash from the rock being thrown, a knee fiercely digging into his back between his shoulder blades. He’s short of breath, he can barely breathe, can barely comprehend what’s going on. He tries to look around, all he sees are blurry legs and crushed flowers with broken stems and papers and posters scattered about. The officer is saying something, but Harry can’t make it out over the screams. His face is shoved to the ground once more and he groans as the officer harshly brings him to his feet with his arms held behind his back, blood dripping down his face. He’s stuffed in a van with four other people who look probably the same as Harry, cuts and scrapes across their faces, clothes dirty and stained.

Harry spends the night in jail. He was allotted his one phone call and he called the only number he knew besides his old home number. He prayed that anyone other than Gemma answered, and he was lucky. Johnny picked up after the sixth ring, right as Harry’s hope has started to fade. He told Johnny what happened and Johnny promised to help him out. Harry made him promise not to tell Gemma or Louis and asked him to tell them that he was going to stay with Nick and the rest of the office for the night.

He doesn’t sleep, not even a wink. He sits in the cell with the four people he rode in with and doesn’t speak a word, unless spoken to by one of the officers. He doesn’t understand what he did wrong, what he did to make him end up here. He was just simply participating in a _peaceful_ protest, he wasn’t being rowdy or stirring up trouble. This isn’t right, this isn’t _fair_. He’s staring at the wall when his name is called. He sits up and turns towards the officer.

“Styles, you’re free to go,” The man says and unlocks the door, letting Harry slip through, but roughly grabbing his arm and directing him towards the front of the building where Johnny is.


	11. XI

It’s been months since Harry’s first overnight stay in Jail, and he’s been back in that cell two other times due to peaceful protests ending in the furthest thing from peaceful. The reaction he got from that first protest and his night spent in a cell with blood on his face and clothes fueled his passion and rage and determination further to fight for peoples rights and equality for all. Louis and Gemma both voiced their opinions, letting it be known that they do not like Harry following Nick around and participating in his protests and marches. They’re scared for him, but Harry ignores it all, tells them that he’s smart and has a good head on his shoulders and that they should trust him to keep himself safe.

Not much has drastically changed, except the war is now being televised in their flat due to one of Johnny’s old friends being drafted, more people are being killed and arrested for protesting the war and fighting for civil rights. Rhiannon got signed to a small, _very_ small label, with only two other artists signed to it. It’s better than nothing, she had told everyone when they celebrated. Her manager, Bono, is chill, he’s older, in his late forties and is constantly wearing red tinted sunglasses no matter where they are and talking in a far away voice and speaks poetically about everything. He’s a slight nutcase but he’s cool enough and knows enough about the music industry to get Rhiannon a few gigs in other cities, even one in Pennsylvania. Niall and Harry’s music section of the mag is spreading word about the magazine and underground music, bringing in more readers and more people to help participate in events and join in on the radio for more opinions and views. It’s all very exciting. 

\+ 

Louis is taking Harry out on a date, a _real_ date, just the two of them in a fancy restaurant that Louis refuses to tell Harry the name of. Harry’s stomach is fluttering with nerves as he slid his shirt around his shoulders, bringing it around his front and buttoning it up, it’s a pretty champagne colored sheer shirt, a material Harry has become quite fond of lately. He likes the way Louis looks at him when he wears partially see-through clothing. He pulls on a pair of black pants and black shoes, running his fingers through his long hair that reaches past his shoulders now, having grown two inches since the summer. He grabs a black coat from the cupboard in the hall and meets Louis in the living room. He’s sitting on the dirty sofa, flipping through a magazine and looks up when Harry enters, his face lighting up and shakes his head in astonishment.

“Look at you,” Louis says, standing up and taking Harry’s hands in his between them. “So beautiful,” Louis says and kisses Harry’s hands, making the younger boy blush.

“You look lovely, too, Louis. I love this shirt on you, it’s one of my favorites.” Harry says, taking the maroon material in his hands and pulling Louis closer to him, to give him a short, sweet kiss.

“Are you ready, love?”

 

“Yeah,” Harry says and follows Louis to the hall and down the stairs.

 

The air is crisp and cool when they step outside, leaves shattered along the curbs, all reds and yellows and oranges, having fallen from the few trees that are planted along the streets. Fall is probably Harry’s favorite season, he loves how it’s a big build up to all the exciting holiday’s and snow and everything else exciting about winter. He loves the changing of the leaves, how every cafes and coffeehouses make special spice muffins and other pastries.

“Still not gonna tell me where we’re going?” Harry asks as they walk in the night.

“Nope,” Louis simply says, smiling and squeezing Harry’s hand.

 

“Seems bit pointless, because I’m going to be able to see once we arrive…so you might as well just tell me.”

“You think I haven’t though of that?” Louis says and pulls one of Gemma’s head scarves from his back pocket with a smirk.

 

“You’re going to blind fold me? How will I know where to go?”

 

“You trust me, don’t you? Besides, I’m only going to put it on when we’re close. As if I’d put myself through the trouble of having to guide your knobby knees through the streets of this city.” Louis scoffs and Harry rolls his eyes but kisses him anyways. They walk on, Harry saying hello to a few of the small shop owners he’s become close with since having moved here.

 

“Alright love, face me,” Louis says when they round a corner and Harry reluctantly turns to Louis, trying to hide his grin with a pout. Louis places the purple and silver fabric over Harry’s eyes and ties it. “It’s not too tight is it?” he checks with Harry who shakes his head. Louis takes Harry’s hands and walks backwards, facing Harry and pulling him along. “Pavements uneven two steps ahead,” Louis warns Harry and Harry cautiously takes two steps, and miraculously avoids tripping over the uneven pavement. He guides Harry along almost half a block before stopping and turning Harry so he’s facing the building-still blindfolded.

 

“Alright, you ready baby?” Harry nods vigorously and Louis unties to blindfold and Harry keeps his eyes closed. “Open up…” Louis whispers. Harry opens his eyes and takes in the building, on the corner of Lexington Avenue, white marble surface outlining the entrance. A veranda hanging over the door, a sign above that painted in red and gold reading _Bull and Bear_ with a carving of a bear on one side of the words, a bull on the other.

 

“Louis,” Harry breathes, he feels extremely underdressed, the people entering and leaving the building are wearing fur coats and freshly pressed suits and shimmering cocktail dresses, while Louis and Harry stand out in jeans and someone else's shirts bought at a second-hand shop.

 

“You can’t be serious,” Harry says and Louis frowns.

 

“Of course I am love,”

 

“But how? Louis, how are we going to be able to afford this…we’re not going to be able to this isn’t smart-”

 

“Harry, trust me. It’s fine, I’ve got it all under control. Now c’mon love, we’ve got a reservation waiting for us.” Louis takes Harry’s hand and leads him inside, and speaks to a lady standing behind a podium and she smiles kindly at him before leading them to a table. Harry is stunned at how elegant the restaurant is. Everything is gold and red, centered around a bar, with two large golden statues behind it-one a bear, the other a bull. It smelled deliciously of steaks and potatoes. The woman led them to a table in the middle of it all, surrounded by all the elegant and expensive patrons. She said something to them before leaving but Harry was too caught up in his surroundings to listen or acknowledge her. Harry was brought back when Louis’ shoe gently nudged his shin underneath the table.

“Alright, love?” He asked and Harry just nodded, not having found his voice just yet. Louis laughed and opened his menu and Harry copied him and proceeded to choke on his spit when he saw the prices.

“Don’t worry about the price of anything Harry, get whatever you want. Please,” Louis pleaded and Harry sighed and looked back at the menu. The drinks were _so_ expensive, and the people around them were throwing them back as if it were all free. Harry felt very out of place and nervous.

“Good evening gentlemen, could I start you two off with any cocktails?” A man dressed in clothes even fancier than what Louis and Harry wore asked them.

 

“Absolutely!” Louis said and rattled off two names of drinks Harry’s never even heard of and the man was off, giving them more time to look over the menu.

 

“Lou, what are you getting?”

 

“I think I’m going to go with the filet mignon, what about you, love?”

 

“Um…probably a soup…it’s just…Louis this is very-“

“Harry remember when I told you I helped that little girl find her father in the park? Turns out that girl’s father owns part of this restaurant.” Louis told Harry.

“He’s paying for this?”

 

“Yes,” Louis says and well, Harry doesn’t feel so bad anymore. “So, what are you getting, Harry?”

 

“The lobster sounds nice…” Harry says and they both giggle like children. Their waiter comes back with their cocktails and they place their orders. When their food comes out Harry nearly cries, it smells and looks so decadent. It tastes even better. Louis’ knife goes through his filet mignon as if it were butter, it’s so tender. They order dessert as well, split a slice of red velvet cake and Louis orders a tea while Harry orders a coffee to go with it. They leave the restaurant happily loudly, bellies full of delicious food and sweet cocktails, all for free.

 

“That was the best food I’ve had in a long time. I don’t think I ever had food that expensive or that delicious in my entire life. Thank you Louis,” Harry says and kisses him.

 

“Don’t thank me love, thank that little girl for getting lost!” Louis jokes and they both wander the streets with laughter, perfectly tipsy with rosy cheeks against the chilly fall air.

 

Harry gets home from _Cafe Wha?_ after seeing a rock band perform and sketching down notes about their show and curls into Louis’ side where he’s sat on their tiny sofa. Johnny is sitting at Gemma’s feet while she snips at his hair with a pair of scissors.

 

“How was your night baby bro?” Gemma asks, not taking her eyes from the blonde locks in her hands.

 “Alright, the band wasn’t that good so it’s going to be a difficult one to write about. But some people came up to me and told about some halloween party they’re holding at a club not far from here. Sounds fun, from what they said.” The thing is, he knows Gemma and Johnny probably don’t much care for halloween parties, but Harry really wants to go, and he wants them all to go because it’s been a while since all of them have done anything fun together, all busy with work and whatnot. 

“Sounds like a blast,” Johnny says, looking up at Harry through his choppy fringe.

“ _Really_?”

 

“Sure, sounds fun doesn’t it, Gems?” Johnny asks, turning his head up to face Gemma who huffs.

 

“I’ll go, as long as I can be a witch.” She says and Harry cackles, Louis and Johnny giving confused looks.

 

“Gemma always wanted to be a witch when she was younger but mom never let her,” Harry tells Louis and Johnny. “But, you don’t have to dress up, it’s just another excuse to throw a party." Harry says.

 

“Oh no you don’t! You're not getting out of this, you’re dressing up too, kitten,” Louis says, “in fact, we all are! We’ll make our own costumes, of course. It’ll be fun!” Louis said jumping off the couch and heading towards his and Harry’s room.

\+ 

Harry was clad in tight black jeans and a sheer black shirt, Gemma’s coal used to draw whiskers on his cheeks and a black feline nose on the tip of his nose, topped with makeshift ears that Gemma had stitched onto one of their many headscarves lying about the apartment and one of her black feather boas tied around a belt loop for a tail. Louis and Johnny were both going as pirates, going shirtless wearing pants with elastic cuffs round the ankles, eyepatches and swords made out of cardboard boxes that Harry brought home work. Gemma is wearing a long and flowing black dress with a black lace shawl, her long hair cascading down her back, topped with a hat they found at a store at a cheap price. The only things they had to buy were the eye patches and Gemma’s witches hat, which wasn’t so bad.

“Ready to go, my kitten?” Louis asks Harry, sneaking up behind him and nibbling his ear.

 

“Lou _is_ ,” Harry whines as Louis’ lips traveled down the length of Harry’s neck, biting the junction where his shoulder and neck meet. Harry hisses in pain.

“Yes?” Louis asks, mouth still hot on Harry’s skin.

“Don’t get me all worked up before we even leave, it’s not fair,” Harry says and Louis laughs, placing one last kiss to Harry’s shoulder and leaves the room, waiting on Gemma and Johnny.

The party is held in a club they’ve all been too, it’s dark and there are neon lights everywhere and black-lights too, picking up the tide in all the boys’ and girls’ clothing, glowing vibrantly like stars in the night. The music is great and the costumes as well. Harry finds Charlie not even ten minutes in and leaves Louis’ side to chat with him while Louis goes to get them drinks. Charlie is dressed up as a woman from the twenties, wearing a sparkly dress and a long feather boa wrapped around her neck. Charlie wants to be referred to as Charlene, or her/she, tonight and asks Harry to please spread the word to his friends. Harry smiles, “Of course, Charlene, you look lovely, as you do every time I see you,” Harry says to her and kisses her cheek before going back to find Louis and the rest. He’s stopped a few times on the way, offered a drink and a dance by a few men and woman. Harry politely declines all offers as he makes his way to Louis, his eyes never leaving Louis’ once he finds them staring at him from across the room. Louis is sitting on the end of a booth, legs splayed open wide, lips parted, one side of his mouth raised up in a smirk. Harry bites his lips, blushing at the way Louis is looking at him.

 

“Hello love,” Louis says as Harry sits next to him, their thighs lining up right against each other. Louis hands Harry a drink that looks very watered down, but he drinks it anyways. Louis takes Harry’s face between his hands and brings their lips together, the kiss is hungry and possessive and it’s turning Harry on more than it should. Louis’ hands are all over, squeezing and rubbing and nails dragging at Harry’s delicate, milky skin. He pulls Harry onto his lap, Harry’s thighs straddling Louis’ thick muscular ones, their crotches grinding together lightly, too much and not enough all at once. Louis pulls back, Harry makes a noise of disapproval.

“Let’s dance love, don’t wanna sit in the corner and be all anti-social, do we?” Louis asks, knowing Harry wanted nothing other than to sit in the corner of the club and make out and publicly get off with Louis. He takes Harry’s hand and drag him to the dance floor, Harry reluctantly follows with a roll of his eyes. They dance all night, Charlene coming up and joining them a while later. They get drunk off watered down drinks and shout the lyrics to the songs they know and everyone is having such a great time, until people are being shoved and shouting and the sound of glass shattering mutes everything out. Harry is shoved away from Louis, losing him in the crowd.

“Get up! Get up!” Someone shouts at Harry, _Gemma_. He takes her hand and pulls himself up to his feet and she runs off, dragging him behind.

“Gems, what’s going on?” Harry tries to ask, out of breath and stumbling behind her. She doesn’t answer. It’s hard to escape the club, there are police everywhere, handcuffing people and lining them all up. Harry notices that most of them are men dressed up as women, and women dressed as men. His heart sinks when he sees a familiar blonde wig being brought to the ground by a large man.

 

“Gems! They’ve got Charlene!” Harry shouts, digging his heels into the floor to stop his sister.

“ _What_?”

 

“They’ve got Charlene-Charlie! Gemma, we’ve gotta help him…he helped me from getting too hurt the first time I got arrested, c’mon!” Harry says stubbornly, stomping his foot and tugging the hand Gemma had a tight grip on. She looked back and forth between the back exit and Charlie three times before sighing and turning towards the bar and turning to Harry.

 

“Alright, but we’ve got to be quick, c’mon!” She says, “You get Charlie while I get the officer,” She says while hopping behind the bar and grabbing a bottle. She starts going towards the officer who is forcefully pinning Charlene to the ground and spitting nasty words into her ear, grinding into her bum dirtily despite her growls and groans of protest. It was disgusting and made Harry’s blood boil and rush through his veins. He ran in front of Gemma, getting to him before she can so he can throw a punch to the fat man’s jaw. There wasn’t much behind it, Harry wasn’t a muscular boy, all sinewy muscle, but he threw his all into it and it was enough to startle the man off of Charlene, shocked and rubbing his jaw. Harry’s hand was throbbing, and he didn’t know what to do after that.

The man’s face turns red and he gets up from the ground and starts to lunge towards Harry when out of nowhere Gemma comes and swings her arm back, bringing it forward to collide with he side of the man’s head, glass shattering and alcohol and blood spilling to the ground. The officer sways on his feet and falls to the ground, eyes rolling to the back of his head. Charlene and Harry both stand shocked, until Gemma grabs one of each of their hands and pulls them towards the back exit where everyone else is running. The shoved their way through with the help of Charlene, being so tall and loud to shove past most everyone.

 

They make it to the back alley and run, they keep running until the sirens and sounds of screaming and glass breaking and cries are distant and a far away. They’ve reached a small park, just a patch of grass with a few trees and a park bench. They sit down and catch their breath, adrenaline long gone. And then Harry remembers.

 

“ _Oh god_ , Louis! Gemma…I-Lou-I don’t know where Lou is, I lost him when the road started I- _god_ what if they took him? And Johnny? Where is he? What if they have _both_ of them? Oh no, no-”

 

“Baby, it’s alright, calm down, please Harry, just breathe you’re going to hurt yourself if you don’t calm down,” Gemma tells him in a calm voice, rubbing large circles in his back.

 

“Gems, this is different than the protest, they weren’t _this_ forceful and hurtful…what if they’re hurting them?” Harry worries, tears spilling over this cheeks, making him shiver in the cold night with little clothing on.

 

“H, your sis is right. You need to calm down, it’s enough to worry about Louis and Johnny, we don’t need to worry about your well-being, too, alright little dove? I’m sure they’re fine, I saw Johnny with Louis not too long before you two helped me, which by the way, I am so very thankful for. I don’t know what they would have done to someone like me had they gotten ahold of me…” Charlie says, shoulders slumped and defeated.

“Oh Charlie,” Gemma clucks, petting his wig and wiping the single tear trailing down his cheek.

“You don’t have to worry about them, Louis and Johnny, they’re both very smart boys if, by any chance, they did get caught they would find their way out of it, I’m positive. We should get off the streets, though, just to be safe.” He says and Gemma and Harry both agree. They sneak through back alleys, avoiding staying on the main drag incase they were to be seen by officers. Harry’s heart sits heavy in his chest when they get to the apartment and it’s empty, he can see the worry in Gemma’s eyes, no matter how badly she’s trying to hide it. Charlie makes them all cups of tea and they curl up on the spare mattress that was once Louis’ room. Harry tries his best to stay awake, incase Louis comes back, but exhaustion takes over and his eyes fall shut, heart aching and worry deep in his bones.


End file.
